Redheads of the 141
by lillybatch
Summary: A collab story written between Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena and ecto1B. Will the Task Force's only female soldiers get along? ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so this is a collab story between _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena _and I, _ecto1B_, about our Modern Warfare 2 OCs. Hers is Ryuka Algren, and she can be found in the stories "The Red Dragon" and "The Red Dragon Redux." (both are fantastic!) Mine is Mckinley 'Queen' Front, from my story "The Ghost That Haunted Me." Please go read ALL of those stories and review :] You'll understand the characters much better if you do so.

There's not much else I can say, besides that the italic part of this chapter was written by _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena, _and the second half was my doing.

These chapters will probably be a mixture of one-shots, depending on what we feel like writing :D

**DISCLAIMER: **Neither of us owns any part of Modern Warfare 2, or any of the characters. She owns Ryuka, and I own Queen.

Enjoy!

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**Redheads of the 141**

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**Chapter 1**

_They say that there was only one woman in the Task Force 141, the team of warriors that were deemed as the best soldiers the world has ever seen. The legends, they all record that she was beautiful, and yet, were like "one of the men". But this is where they all differ._

_Some say that she was a warrior bred and born to fight, a descendant of Samurai and American soldiers ever since the American Civil War, but others said that she came from a broken family, and found purpose only in the armed forces. Some say that she, among all others in her unit, was the one who singlehandedly brought Vladimir Makarov to his doom, others, said that she was just another warrior, loved by her superior. There are even versions of that tale that claim that she was in love with either the Captain or the Lieutenant of the unit, being rather the other Lieutenant (of similar rank as the other), or one of the many Private First Classes._

_But what they all say was wrong. There are actually two women in the Task Force 141. Out of choice, one of them had chosen to remain in the shadows of the world, blacking out her own mark upon the world. The other, took the reins of leadership when their wronged unit was redeemed, but that is the tale that everyone knows._

_What the world does not know is the tales of the operations that they shared with one another. They are like sisters, as the men in their faction were like brothers, bound to one another, and the men that they chose to love…_

_This is their tale._

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**Queen's POV**

Entering the task force was probably one of the scariest things I'd ever done in my entire life.

I mean, sure, going in to the Army Rangers was scary. Here were these huge, muscular men with guns and attitudes that ranged from as north as Maine to far below the Mason-Dixon line. They'd never trained alongside a woman before, and they—at first—treated me like a piece of garbage. Eventually, as I began to prove my worth, it got better.

But Task Force 141… I was beyond scared to be entering their ranks. I would be the FNG in a group of men who'd handled some of the world's most dangerous people, participated in legendary battles, and survived the world's most frightening encounters. I knew for a fact that these men would be completely different from the guys I hung around in the Rangers. They'd be serious, rugged men without any tolerance for kidding around.

The thought slightly terrified me.

When the helicopter landed, I was so nervous, I felt my heart leap into my throat. The area just beyond the small huddle of trees lining the landing pad would be my home.

I exited the chopper on unsteady feet, hearing the crunch of the dirt beneath the soles of my combat boots. The blood running throughout my body began to heat up and accelerate the pace it traveled. Along with it came adrenaline that only seemed to emphasize how much I craved to leap back aboard the helicopter and fly back to Firebase Phoenix, or even home to Pensacola.

I think the only thing that kept me from doing so was the prospect of not being the only girl for much longer.

I'd heard from a few Rangers that there was already a girl in the Task Force 141 named Ryuka Algren. The stories they told me were all good; in fact, she sounded like an incredible soldier, and I was anxious to learn from her. Perhaps she had honed a few female-specific tactics that I could eventually master.

I was genuinely excited to meet her. Finally, there would be another girl fighting alongside me.


	2. Chapter 2

Incredible chapter by the phenomenal writer, _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena_. (Man... I doubt that my chapter will even come close to how amazing it is!)

Again, neither of us own any element of Modern Warfare 2. She owns Ryuka, and I own Mckinley/Queen.

Please review! :]

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Morning in Encounter Base in spring was a beautiful sight, particularly in spring.

The trees were green, the air was fresh, the songbirds chirping happily all about you, while the sounds of little fishing boats upon the nearby lake woke you up in the first lights of the morning sun.

Of course, that was if you did not have an intense drinking session (or several of them) over the weekend, or, have another bout of alcohol-induced tryst with your commanding officer for the… seventeenth time running. Yes, once again, the famous Red Dragon of the Task Force 141 found herself in the arms of the dashing Captain of their faction, without a shred of clothing on her body, save for the comfy, and fluffy duvet that she had wrapped around her to keep warm.

Things were not always like this. There were times when she and MacTavish were completely different people. He was the ever-careful leader, strong and steadfast, while she, she was the restive Lieutenant, eager to seize the reins of power to change the turn of the tide. It had been about 18 months since the Task Force 141 had been formed, 18 months since they had been total strangers… But now that she asked herself honestly what the man whose arms were around her even as he slept through the morning's progressions was to her, she found out that she could not answer the question at all.

"It's too damned early to be up right now," his gruff Scottish voice rang in her head, and she immediately felt him tighten his hold around her, pulling her body closer to his.

"You do know that you have a new batch of FNGs coming in today, do you not?" Ryuka asked the Captain, turning to face him. The man's bright blue eyes were still closed, a sign that he was unwilling to leave the bed just yet. "John…" She had forgotten when she had started being on first-name terms with MacTavish, but she knew that she had only called him thus when they were alone. And no matter how many times she had said it, just calling him by that name sent Goosebumps up her spine for no apparent reason.

Reluctantly, MacTavish pried his eyes opened when she kissed his forehead, and brought his lips to hers in a short, chaste kiss. "Why don't we just skip the day and lock the doors? I'm sure that they won't miss us…" By that time, he had already risen and was on all fours above her, holding her hands to either side of her head.

"I will not risk Shepherd kicking us out once he finds out about us," she answered as he rained kisses down the side of her face to her neck and the line of her shoulders. It was highly unorthodox, really, for members of the same team being involved with one another. It was dangerous, and placed undue pressure on the both of them at many times during their missions; Perhaps, the reason that they could get through it all, was the fact that they kept it high casual between them.

"He won't," MacTavish added, sucking on the skin on her collarbone. "We're too valuable to him…"

Apparently, Ryuka did not believe him, and just smirked. With one swift maneuver, she changed their positions, and smiled that smile that he hoped he had been the only one to have seen it. "You will not hinder me from doing my job, Captain," she told him, tracing his lips with her thumb. "I will see you later today, shall I not?"

And with those words, she gathered her clothes, and put them on in a manner similar to the moment when she had taken them off right before him. MacTavish swore to God that this woman would be the death of him, admiring the sway of her hips as she left his quarters for hers.

Well, at least after that day, she would no longer be the only female serving in the 141.

The girl would come from the US Army Rangers, a young individual who like her, in her days in the Japanese Tokushu Sakusen Gun, the Special Forces of Japan, who worked hard to prove her own worth. As with all Rangers, she was trained using infantry tactics, useful to storm down vast spaces in the least amount of time, and with the deadliest accuracy. She would be a useful addition to the team, because the most of them had been trained in Special Operations since Day One.

The rest of the boys were already talking about her just before the FNGs would arrive.

"Hoo boy, there's a girl in this shipment of FNGs!" Meat said rather excitedly. He was the one who was responsible in helping Ryuka induct the newcomers this time around, and was in the mess hall, reading their respective files.

Ozone, however, did not find it to be anything new at all. "What difference does it make?" he asked Meat while chewing on the Hash Brown that he was having for breakfast, along with some eggs and baked beans. "Reddie's been here since… forever!"

Ryuka had been among the first thirty or so members of the 141, along with Ghost, MacTavish, Meat and Ozone, and they were definitely used to working with a woman by now. It was often the FNGs that had some… difficulties in handling themselves before a female XO. "What he means, mate, is that Reddie's gonna have some competition," Ghost said, looking over Meat's shoulder at the new girl's files.

"What the heck, the girl cleared the Pit in 22 seconds!" Ozone exclaimed. It was a highly rare feat, even for the men. However, Ryuka's time was slightly faster than that, only because she had been trained since young for speed and endurance. "That's like 3 seconds behind Reddie's time!"

The new girl's photograph was seen next. "She's just as much of a looker as Reddie is," Meat commented.

"And they're both redheads," Ghost added as well. "Seems like MacTavish's going to have a hard time handling Reddie when she deals with the competition…"

Meat and Ozone could only nod at his words. It was already a widely known fact that Ryuka did not take losing or the threat of competition very well, which was probably why she had often antagonized MacTavish due to his prowess as a sniper. At last count, the two of them were considered head-to-head as marksmanship went, and Ryuka had been trying very, very hard to "remove" him as a competitor…

"May God save the good Captain," Meat prayed jokingly, and went back to his preparation duties.

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**Lieutenant Ryuka "Red Dragon" Algren**

**Task Force 141**

**Encounter Base – Location Classified.**

There were fifteen or so FNGs this time. And she was sure that after the two-week induction period, only a handful would remain. Ryuka had seen FNGs being killed in the field the moment of deployment, or they were just unable to keep up with the high standards held by the 141. Either way, she hoped that for their sakes, it would be the latter, being the lesser of two evils.

"Welcome to the Task Force 141," she said to them, fourteen men, and a woman slightly younger than she was. "I am Lieutenant Ryuka Algren, one of your two XOs here. I will be responsible for your training and induction for the next two weeks, and I hope that you do not disappoint me too much."

The FNGs looked up at her and chorused, "Yes, ma'am," at the top of their voices.

"Standard rules and times applies here," she added. "Mealtimes are at 08300, 1300 and 2000 hours, assembly and 0700, followed by rounds through the training course. Lights out at 2200 hours, no exceptions. Am I understood?" Once again, the FNGs confirmed their comprehension, and she resumed her introductory speech. "As with all military factions, your utmost obedience is demanded of you, follow every order, and you will survive."

There were several snickers that interrupted her, snickers that came from the members of the 141 that already knew her. After all, she was most famous for her "differences in opinion" with the Captain in every single thing, well, almost every single thing.

"This is no longer Marine or Ranger boot-camp, people," Ryuka continued. "Nor is this Selection for the SAS. Remember that getting into the 141 is far easier than staying here. You will need not only discipline and mental strength to pass through our intensive training sessions, but also the need and will to live to survive each and every mission. Not any man or woman can do this. You must find the strength within yourselves to accomplish all that you set yourselves to once you get here."

Some of the FNGs gulped, but not the girl. She seemed to be hanging on to every single world that Ryuka had said, absorbing every syllable uttered. "Constant vigilance is asked from you, and I hope that you can and will learn from one another in all ways possible."

"Yes, ma'am!" the FNGs repeated, and the rest of the 141 present there in the mess hall clapped their hands, signifying their welcome into the team. These boys and the girl surely did not know what they were in for, but it was still early days. They had a lot of things to learn before they could be redeployed into the field, particularly when most of them had been infantry soldiers.

After Ryuka's speech, the FNGs were paired up with their training officers, and there was no doubt that the girl would be paired with Ryuka. "Mckinley Front?" she asked, and the girl whirled towards her direction with a mixture of enthusiasm and relief. "You are to come with me."

"Yes, ma'am," Mckinley said, grabbing her pack as well.

"There is something that I wish to speak to you about, girl to girl," she told the younger soldier, and brought her to a more private corner of the mess hall. "There are only the two of us girls here in the 141, and as of yet, we do not have a budget to build amenities for women… I highly doubt that you would be comfortable in walking in and out of the showers with a bunch of strange men possibly popping in and out, am I right?"

Sincerely, the thought never passed through Mckinley's mind. She did not even notice how she had missed such an important matter altogether. "Wow… I never really thought of that before," she said, almost blushing red at the thought of Ryuka's words.

"It does not matter," Ryuka said, with a friendly smile. "I have a spare key made for you that leads to my quarters. It has an attached bathroom, so you could grab your things and do whatever you wish there. However, do make sure to knock beforehand…"

"I will ma'am," Mckinley reassured her. "Thanks!" And suddenly, the prospect of such a simple act such as having a bath did not seem so intimidating like what it had been three seconds ago. What she could not believe was that her XO would just hand her spare keys to her own private room just so she could use the bathroom!

Ryuka smiled and placed her hand on the other girl's shoulder. "I know how it feels like, being a girl in the army. The Rangers are not the most… accommodating of soldiers as well." She knew for a fact that the Army Rangers hung on to old beliefs and ideals far longer than any other US military faction. Mckinley must have been an exceptional individual to have gained their respect. "But here in the 141, all of us are our own people in our own way. Far from our homes and the ones we love, we are the last barriers the world has against the dissidents that cannot stand the very notion of peace. That is why we do not take the frivolities of sex, race and beliefs into account. However, it does not mean that because you are a woman, any less is expected of you."

Mckinley listened to every single word she said. "Thank you, ma'am," she said, but was interrupted by Ryuka.

"Please, call me Reddie."


	3. Chapter 3

Here's my chapter, from Mckinley's POV. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Neither of us own Modern Warfare 2 or anything that relates to it. _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena_ owns Ryuka (Reddie), and I, _ecto1B_, own Mckinley (Queen)

Review please!

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**Pvt. Mckinley Front**

**Task Force 141**

**Encounter Base**

**Location-Classified**

With an added feeling of importance swelling in her chest, Mckinley headed in the direction that her training officer, Ryuka, had designated. Mckinley was to locate her tent along the row of tents set up for commanding officers and—in her case—special cases of soldiers. While the men bunked inside the numerous rooms within the walls of the barracks, she'd been assigned to a simple tent outside to not force on her the exposure to unfavorable sights. And now—thanks to the generosity of her female XO—Mckinley would also be avoiding the rather awkward moments involving her fellow FNGs and bathing time.

Lugging her duffel bag down the row of buildings, tents, and military instruments, Mckinley was taken aback by how many smiling faces greeted her. The permanent members of the task force that were strolling about seemed to feel no reason not to offer her a friendly welcome, or even a slight wave of their hand. All of a sudden, Mckinley became very conscious of the fact that—much unlike the members of the Army Rangers—these men, though faced with much tougher adversities than her Ranger friends, were significantly nicer, and weren't out to make her life miserable. Why else would their motions be so hospitable? Smirking to herself, Mckinley made a mental oath to herself that she would do her very best to make the cut and join the ranks of Task Force 141.

Finally, Mckinley stumbled upon a tent near the end of the row with its front flaps tied open: a sign that she had probably reached her intended destination. With unusually sluggish feet, the woman stepped through the entrance and into her new (and hopefully permanent) home.

It was a simple tent; it wasn't anything special or out of the ordinary. Inside it was only the necessary amenities: a cot on a slender metal bed frame, a foldable table and chair, a basket for dirty clothes. Mckinley ventured further inside, setting her duffel bag on the cot, and took note of the bed's thin sheets and flat pillow that she'd been given. She sighed, grateful that her expectations for accommodations hadn't changed, even though she wasn't with the Rangers any longer.

After taking a few more moments to glance around her tent, Mckinley began digging through her duffel bag. She wondered about what kinds of clothing she should wear when being trained. Usually she donned her Ranger uniform when being drilled or running the course, but since this was a completely different setting, Mckinley was a bit unsure. Perhaps they would be provided with uniforms…?

Sighing again, Mckinley zipped her bag back up, took one more quick glance around the tent, and decided that she felt like wandering about the base for a while. The fresh mountain air had thoroughly intrigued her when she'd been outside.

Mckinley strolled around the base at a calm, leisurely pace so she could take everything in. There was so much to see, so many interesting things to admire and explore. Her senses were having a feast; her eyes relished in the glory of the multiple sights about her. Her nose found hints of every scent, from the repulsive aroma of blood wafting from the infirmary, to the growing smell of today's lunch drifting from the mess. Her ears, on the other hand, found the unfamiliar sounds to be vaguely annoying, like the constant sound of the wind making its way through the streets of the base, and the almost strained voice of a Task Force soldier calling out to his buddy across the way.

She passed the barracks, the mess hall, the infirmary, a rock-climbing wall, and even a pair of basketball courts before finding herself at the far corner of the base. Cautiously, Mckinley glanced down the length of the barracks to her right, and started down the grassy path towards the second portion of the base.

Unfortunately, she was too occupied with her new surroundings to avoid a collision with someone as she rounded the corner. The blow caught Mckinley completely off guard, and she stumbled backwards a bit, stuttering panicky apologies without glancing up to see who she'd run in to. She knew it was a man, for he had cursed emphatically when they'd bumped into each other, and his voice was intense and low, elegantly carved and curled about a striking British accent. Mckinley swore inwardly, figuring that he was a member of the Task Force 141… and she'd just rammed into him.

_Way to make a good impression._

Mckinley finally caught her balance, and slowly she managed to catch a glimpse of the person she'd hit. Her chin lifted, her eyes raised up the person's legs, up to their relatively muscular-looking chest and shoulders, and finally… Mckinley froze when she saw the face of the man before her. The blood running through her veins turned cold instantly.

Standing before her—also mumbling apologies rapidly—was a man wearing a black balaclava and a pair of dark red sunglasses. The thing that startled Mckinley the most was what was _on_ the balaclava. The face of a skull, bony and forbidding, was imprinted onto the black fabric. At first, Mckinley felt a scream building in the lower of her throat because of the sight, but after a few seconds, she realized that she recognized him somewhat. He'd been one of the permanent 141 members in the mess hall earlier.

"I'm _so _sorry," she winced shakily, not letting her eyes leave his facemask. "It's my fault; I wasn't watching where I was going, and—"

"No need to apologize," he interrupted her sharply. His voice sent a shiver down her spine. "Accidents happen." His head tilted to the side a bit. "You're one of the FNGs? The girl from the Rangers?"

To her surprise, she found her cheeks turning crimson as he spoke to her. "Uh… yeah, I'm Mckinley. Private Mckinley Front." Timidly, she offered her hand to him, and he took it with a firm grasp.

"I'm Ghost. The _other_ Task Force lieutenant, besides Reddie." Smile creases formed on the fabric of his mask. He let go of her hand after shaking it. "Pleasure to meet you, Mckinley. It's about _time_ we got another woman on the team."

The corners of her lips twitched, and she couldn't help but grin. So he had a sense of humor. That was good. She'd always hated Army Rangers that didn't posses the ability to joke around. Like her former officer, Sergeant Milford. She'd make a remark about something during training, and he would immediately begin reprimanding her. She couldn't stand him. Hopefully, this Ghost character would be a much nicer upgrade.

"Pleasure to meet you, too, sir. I'm excited to be getting a chance to join the team. I've been opting for it for a while now." That was true. She'd watched a handful of her friends be chosen to test for the task force, and had always wished for a chance of her own.

Ghost rolled his neck. "Well, it seems as if Shepherd's seen somethin' in you that he feels would make a good addition to our ranks. You sure as _hell_ must've been bloody magical with the Rangers… they don't seem like the kind of people who'd easily let a female be a soldier."

Mckinley shrugged. "It took a while, yes. But they managed to let me in eventually."

Ghost's chuckle was much like his voice: deep, calming, and tinted with an accent. "You must've been pretty persistent." He paused to glance at his wristwatch, and sighed when he noticed the time. "Shit, I was supposed to be speaking with 'Tavish in the mess five minutes ago." He looked back at her; his red sunglasses gleamed in the spring sunlight. "Sorry, Mckinley, but I best be off. Nice meeting you."

"You too, sir," she responded, dipping her head and stepping aside to let him pass her.

Ghost's hidden gaze seemed to linger on her for just a second longer than she'd expected, but before she had time to inquire about it, he had turned the corner and was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Hope you enjoy this one, brought to you by the incredible _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena_.

**Disclaimer:** Neither of us own anything relating to Modern Warfare 2. She owns Ryuka, however, and I, _ecto1B_, own Mckinley.

Enjoy, and please review!

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They were the three soldiers of the highest rank in the 141, there ever since their organization was formed.

Captain MacTavish, powerful and wise, Lieutenant Riley, mysterious and steadfast, and Lieutenant Algren, beautiful and cunning… The Task Force 141, although they seemed to be tied to a commanding officer, a leader many branches of the United States Armed Forces, they ran their own organization their own.

And when Shepherd had saw them fit to send them the best infantry soldiers that he had, they had to settle that small little… problem, as they would call it. The Task Force 141 may have been a collection of the world's best soldiers in every field, but those that served in the field itself, those that ran the missions, all of them were Special Operations officers, and none of them came from the infantry.

"What are we going to do with them?" Ryuka asked MacTavish and Ghost, placing her forehead in her hands. "Fifteen Rangers… They are trained to storm deserts, jungles and cities, deployed in huge numbers. They are trained to man tanks and artillery… Not airdropped into secret locations in teams fewer than five…"

MacTavish interrupted her with a show of his palm. "I know, Reddie," he said, "However, Shepherd wouldn't have sent them to us unless they amazed even him. So, all we need to do is to formulate some sort of training module to train those numbskulls in the shortest time possible."

Both Ryuka and Ghost nodded. "And what about the new girl, eh?" Ghost asked. Even with his balaclava and sunglasses on, the other Lieutenant and the Captain could see a slight change in his features. "Any plans for her?"

"For one thing, she seems to be quite… enthusiastic," Ryuka replied. "However, I have read her files and know for some reason that dislikes water… It should be a problem in future missions and we need to get that out of her before she can be deployed in the field." Another downside to having Rangers in the 141 was that they were a strictly land-based unit. It was obvious in that sense that Mckinley had not needed to come into contact with any body of water larger than a bath-tub when she was with the Rangers, since they spent most of their time in the deserts of the Middle East. "Other than that, she seems to be a highly promising individual."

MacTavish then shot a look at Ryuka. "You think that she can make it through after two weeks?" he asked her with a raised eyebrow. Unlike Ryuka the girl had only just started fighting, a mere private. She did not have the experience nor the expertise.

"I will make sure that she does, Captain," Ryuka replied. "Besides, I need some help around here, dealing with you boys and whatnot."

"That's it, isn't it?" Ghost asked the two of them. "Reddie needs some help!" Still, there was a look of incomprehension from his companions. "We could train Front to be a Black Ops specialist! She's got all the skills, too! Sniping, endurance, she's hot and she speaks Russian."

However, Ryuka did not like the sound of that. "Are you serious?" she asked Ghost. "I'm only a Specialist because I was the only one who passed all the endurance tests!" Like the British SAS, she had been trained to withstand torture, and had received a mark only above the passing requirements, which immediately entitled her to become a Black Ops specialist where others had failed. Rangers did not to undergo such training, nor could she ever imagine that young Mckinley Front would be able to fathom the process of becoming one.

But no matter how much Ryuka and Ghost disagreed with one another, the last word came from MacTavish and him only. He looked at Ryuka, and knew that she was only a Black Ops Specialist only because she was the last person able to do so. She had taught Ghost a few methods of torture to retrieve information, but other than that, he had no clearance to conduct such operations. Assassination, arson, sabotage…

"Ghost, you'll have to ask the girl if she wants to go through with it," MacTavish said. "Reddie will instruct her further if she agrees with it." Ryuka bowed her head in comprehension, while Ghost nodded in return. "We need another Black Ops Specialist, especially now this… Shadow of Zakhaev is getting more and more active."

"Not to mention that," Ghost added, "We're getting' Intel that Makarov is on the loose again."

It was MacTavish's turn to sigh. Vladimir Makarov was nothing more than a loose-cannon terrorist, creating more and more problems for them. And the worse thing was that they could not find any form of coherence between Makarov and the Shadow of Zakhaev, mainly because these two were complete entities, and had totally different strategies. The latter was more… organized, striking wherever they had progress, making it hard for them to keep up with him, while Makarov, he was just randomly creating chaos in the world…

"Aye," MacTavish said. "We'd better hope that she wants this, or we're doomed to find another star soldier for the job."

At those words, Ghost went to inform the new girl about the news immediately, leaving the mess hall, as well as Ryuka and MacTavish. "I sense something different with Ghost today," Ryuka said to MacTavish, seating herself conveniently on his lap as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "He seems utterly fascinated by young Mckinley. Has he even met her already?"

MacTavish shrugged. "Why not?" he asked in return, running his hand through her long, red hair as he admired her features under the dim lighting of the mess hall. "He even said that she was hot a few minutes ago."

Ryuka chuckled. "Ah, that he did, Captain," she replied. "Perhaps, our dear friend Simon has found a match?"

"I don't believe you, Reddie," MacTavish chided her, but with a kiss to the base of her neck. "He just met her…"

With those words, she ran her hand down his well-muscled chest and kissed his temple. "Yes, but do you not remember than you tried to rape me in the game-room a few days after we had met?" she asked him again. Clearly, this woman was one who could hold on to grudges. It was but an accidental kiss due to him tripping over a beer-can, which led him to fall over her. "I was merely joking, John," she added quickly, earning a slight kiss on her lips. "Besides, if this girl is as magical as she seems to be, then surely Shepherd would bring more women into the 141, and I would not have to share a bathroom with another girl again!"

"So that's all you're concerned about, not wanting to share your bathroom with others?" MacTavish teased her, looking into those dark, fiery eyes which he knew, were only meant for him, and scoping out enemy targets. "I am so disappointed in you."

"Hmmm, there are two of us redheaded girls here, John," Ryuka reprimanded him. "If, in any case, you stormed into said bathroom and made it off with the wrong redhead, what would you do?"

MacTavish rolled his eyes. "As if I would mistake you for her," he said. But after pondering the nature of his words, he started to understand what she was hinting at as she stood over him, with her arms placed on her hips condescendingly. He too, stood up from the bench and started to circle her while taking one of her hands in his, and kissing the ridges of her knuckles. "I don't know about the Private, but I do know that _my_ redhead is very, very ticklish… here."

His fingers landed on that sweet spot on the side of her waist which he immediately tickled, causing Ryuka to burst in laughter. "Go to hell, MacTavish," she cursed slightly unable to continue because MacTavish pressed his lips against hers in a rather feral kiss.

* * *

**Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley**

**Task Force 141**

**Encounter Base – Location Classified (FNG tents)**

"Me, a Black Ops Specialist?"

The girl's eyes were completely livid when he passed the decision of the previous meeting to her, and Ghost knew that it was for good reason. It was never an easy job, and never a job that anyone wanted for themselves. "You'll be trained by Reddie, but it also depends if you make the final cut and all that shit."

Still, there was one thing that Mckinley did not understand. "Why are you asking me this now?" she asked Ghost further. "I mean, I could be shipped back to the Rangers at any moment, right?"

Ah, the girl was a clever one indeed, Ghost mused. "If you say yes, Reddie will make sure that you get through every single test you have to take, even the… endurance tests." Ryuka was not one who would easily walk out on her promises, and he knew it from experience.

"I don't understand, sir," Mckinley added. "Why would you need Black Ops in the first place?" She had known the Task Force 141 to be a unit that was highly transparent. Almost every other unit knew what they did, mission after mission (although there were some exaggerations when such tales came from word-of-mouth). What were they really doing there in Russia that no one else could know about them?

Ghost did not blame her for asking such questions in her naiveté, she was young and was an FNG, but it would all change soon. "We're not only responsible for taking out terrorists and whatnot, Mckinley," he said after a deep breath and a moment to ponder his words. "We're also needed to provide the NATO and the UN-Coalition with Intel. Solid Intel, and for that, we need to infiltrate enemy lines with whatever necessary. And sometimes, we do things differently. Some people need to go down so quietly that the people on their side won't know that they're dead until it's too late, and sometimes, you'll need to try harder to persuade them to give you what you need…"

There, he had explained to her but only a few functions of a Black Ops Specialist: torture, assassination, infiltration, and much, much more. Ryuka had even once set a whole building on fire, filled with the families of the Ultranationalists that she was to kill. Of course, it took a long time for her to make peace with the incident, but Ghost remembered the first few days when she had been utterly inconsable, even by MacTavish…

"I'll have to think about it," Mckinley said, clenching the knees of her pants together. "Who should I tell when I've decided?" she asked further.

"Either Reddie or me would be fine, I guess," Ghost answered. In truth, he did not really know who. What he did know, that with Mckinley as a Black Ops soldier, they could gain an upper hand once again in their constant efforts against the Ultranationalists; That, and they could allow Ryuka to focus more on her original duties: to be a sniper and the Lieutenant specializing in provided support in the field.

To those words, Mckinley nodded, and opened her tent flap for Ghost to leave. It was already late, and she needed her rest, particularly after those long days and nights travelling on Humvees from Fire Base Phoenix to Georgia only to change into a Hercules to get to Encounter Base. "Thank you, sir," she said, but was interrupted by Ghost once more.

"Call me Ghost, Mckinley," he told her in a most friendly manner. She would receive her call-sign soon, when her fellow FNGs think of one for her, and vice-versa. He was about to reach the corridors when he heard her voice again. "What is it, Mckinley?" he asked, noticing some sort of a flush upon her face.

"Um, Ghost, I was just wondering…" the girl said, "What do… you guys wear during training?" The Task Force 141 was so… different from the Rangers that she did not know how to go about that particular question. Especially since she could see most of the people there were not wearing standard-issue uniforms of some sort.

Ghost scratched his head through his balaclava for a moment. "You can wear whatever you want, technically," he told her. "But, I think Reddie will give you a little something before breakfast." And with that, Mckinley thanked him one last time, and went back into her tent, not knowing that she would receive the shock of her life when Ryuka visited her like Ghost said she would.

"You are to wear these, Mckinley," Ryuka said, handing her three sets of what seemed to be items of clothing with a similar feel to leather, along with three strips of Kevlar with… boning? Yes, she felt along the length of the Kevlar. It was made thinner than what she was used to, but being a woman, she immediately felt the structure of the strange vertical grooves that the Kevlar had sported…

Mckinley's jaw practically dropped when she discovered just what they were. The leather-like things were catsuits, for God's sakes, while the Kevlar… were corsets! "How the hell am I gonna wear this?" she asked Ryuka, who shrugged and unzipped the zipper on the front. "This is a freakin' catsuit!"

At those words, Ryuka could do nothing but roar in a small bout of laughter. "Indeed it is," she replied. "In all actuality, these are 'Camouflage-ready All Terrain suits'. And the Kevlar corsets protect your torso from enemy fire, as well as to keep the girls in place, if you get what I mean."

"This is not funny!" Mckinley retorted. "How is this all-terrain? It's so freaking thin… You'll freeze the moment you get to Siberia!"

"Oh, sumimasen!" Ryuka apologized, quickly giving Mckinley a few plastic-bags containing what seemed to be furs. "I have forgotten. These are fur inserts for your suits, you just have to button them on. Five layers should do the trick in Siberia in the heart of winter."

Still, it was not enough to calm Mckinley, who was obviously oblivious to such a strange… body-revealing (although it covered much of her skin) uniform, if it could be called thus. "Whoever made this must never have gotten over the Matrix," she rolled her eyes, causing Ryuka to laugh even more.

"Believe it or not, Mckinley, it was the CIA," Ryuka said, "They needed to come out with some sort of armor that was fire-proof and bullet-proof, and thus… this happened. But I agree with you, whoever invented this must have a strange penchant which I do not wish to name… However I must remind you that these work excellently. I have tested them myself."

"How?"

"In a live fire exercise in Fire Base Phoenix," Ryuka said simply. "Now, you must run along. There is a huge day ahead of you, and you do not want to miss breakfast."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5, done by me, _ecto1B_. In this, you get to find out how Queen got her call-sign :D

**Disclaimer:** Neither of us own anything Modern Warfare 2 related. _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena_ owns Ryuka, and I, _ecto1B_, own Mckinley, and in this chapter, I also own Malcolm Whitaker.

Enjoy, and review please!

* * *

**Pvt. Mckinley Front**

**Task Force 141**

**Encounter Base- Location Classified**

It turns out that Mckinley's first breakfast with the task force, at exactly 08300 hours, would be more than just her first time trying the food at Encounter. It would be incredibly important to her, and in the future, she'd recall the exact date and treasure the event that occurred rather erratically then. Though at first she would regret the incident, Mckinley would always feel like before then, she had been waltzing around life nameless.

After obtaining her food, Mckinley went and sat at a table in the far corner of the mess hall, along with a handful of other FNGs that had also come from the Rangers. Most of the men she knew quite well, in fact, two or three had entered Ranger school at the same time as she had. The small huddle conversed like mutual friends, chattering about everything they found new and exciting at Encounter. Like usual, Mckinley sat in the middle of the bunch and tossed her comments onto the table every so often. She felt no obligation to act any different than they did; though the Rangers disapproved of a female alongside them at most times, they still considered her part of the team. Her gender played no part in the conversation they were having, since each individual was experiencing the same wave of unfamiliar sights and sounds as everyone else.

The life-changing event that occurred that morning began with a rather carrying bout of laughter from one of the permanent 141 members. Mckinley was yet to learn the fellow's name, although she could recall hearing some sort of call-sign given to him yesterday… Meat, was it? Whatever it was, the man's voice had been growing progressively louder as his conversation with a small number of his also-permanent team members grew comical. His laughter seemed to rise octaves with every remark his buddies said.

The attention in the room seemed to slowly divert to the laughing man's table. Everyone's eyes traveled to the source of the disruptive noise, and even then, the man would not stop laughing. Mckinley could tell that he noticed the immense number of puzzled looks he was receiving; _his_ eyes also graced across the entirety of the mess hall. Still, he did not stop.

Mckinley put her elbow on the table, laid her forehead in her hand, and sighed. "_Mamma mia, mamma mia_…" she muttered, feigning aversion, but also repressing a smile, for the man's laughter was contagious.

At her table, a single pair of eyes snapped to her. They belonged to Private Malcolm Whitaker, a friend of Mckinley's, who was seated across from her at the table. Mckinley noticed his gaze and gave him a look. She watched in worry as the corners of his mouth curved upward.

"You quoting Queen or something?" he inquired playfully.

Her eyebrows curved inward as she attempted to fathom what he was referring to.

"What… _oh_! Oh, I get it!" she grinned. He thought she was referencing "Bohemian Rhapsody" by the famous rock group Queen with her 'mamma mia' remark. "No, I wasn't quoting Queen. I was just—"

"Who's Queen?" a Ranger at the far end of the table piped up, instantly getting a fit of outrage and shock from the other FNGs. Though the conversation had began between Mckinley and Malcolm, the Rangers sitting around them had no trouble intervening to defend the topic. They turned their attention to the dumbfounded soldier.

"You don't know who Queen is?"

"You're mad, dude. Queen is the _shit_!"

"Do you not live here on planet Earth?"

"You're kidding, right? How can you not know Queen?"

The Ranger who'd asked the condemned question cowered in his seat, frowning and trying to vindicate himself from not knowing who Queen was. He tried to explain that he'd grown up listening to country music and not classic rock because his father hated it, but no one listened. They were too focused on the fact that he'd asked 'such a stupid question.'

Eventually, multiple tables around them joined into the conversation of classic rock bands. Mckinley found herself debating with two Marines about whether it had been Yoko Ono who'd broke up the Beatles. Next to her, a fellow Ranger informed some of the permanent 141 members that Keith Richards, the guitarist for The Rolling Stones, had purposely snorted some of his father's ashes. Some even began discussing the hidden meaning behind "American Pie" by Don McLean.

"I'm guessing we have a bunch of rock fans in here?" a voice asked humorously from behind where Mckinley was sitting. She glanced over her shoulder and involuntarily flinched at the sight of Ghost's skull mask.

_I have **got to** get used to seeing that_ she told herself.

Everyone who had been talking about the classic bands hushed instantly when Ghost spoke. Knowing he was one of the lieutenants on the team, they trained their eyes to his muscular form and restrained their smiles and laughter. Some obviously weren't sure if the man was being sarcastic, and was about to reprimand them, or if he was just trying to be pleasant.

Mckinley's friend Malcolm felt no apprehensiveness with the appearance of the XO, however. He did not falter with his response.

"Huge fans, sir," Malcolm said enthusiastically. The soldier to his left elbowed him, but he ignored the warning and continued. "From Queen to The Who to Led Zeppelin—"

"And how did this conversation come about, might I ask?" Ghost inquired.

Much to Mckinley's embarrassment and dislike, Malcolm pointed at her. "Mrs. Queen here started quoting 'Bohemian Rhapsody.'"

Mckinley blushed and reached across the table to slap Malcolm's hand away. It was bad enough that he'd thrown her under the bus with her mistake, but then the person he was telling was her probable XO, the one who'd offered her the opportunity of a lifetime to become a Black Ops Specialist. "N-no, I wasn't—" she started defending herself, but Ghost interrupted her.

"Mckinley, it's alright," he laughed, holding up his hands. "You a Queen fan, eh?"

She grinned. "The biggest, sir—I mean, Ghost…"

"Freddie Mercury's, like, her _idol_," another Ranger put in. "Besides Paul McCartney, of course."

Ghost tapped a finger against his mask-covered chin, deep in thought. "Hmm… _Queen_…" His face tilted in her direction. "That might be a good call-sign for you, Mckinley."

"Call-sign?" Malcolm asked.

"Like a nickname," Ghost explained to the multiple curious gazes that had locked onto him at the mention of a 'call sign'. He motioned across the room at the tables abundant with 141 members. "For example: Meat, Royce, Chemo, Taco, and Archer are some of the call-signs given to our team members… it's easier than remembering a person's real name. We always give call-signs to the FNGs once they've arrived."

"And you think mine should be 'Queen?'" Mckinley asked him. "Just because I like the band?"

"Call-signs are always given for a reason, lass," he replied. "For instance…" Ghost indicated one of the 141 members. "He's called Archer 'cause he's got the best bloody aim outta all of us." He denoted another soldier. "Taco used to tell us horror stories about workin' at Taco Bell when he was growin' up." His finger pointed out the soldier seated at the end of one table. "He's called Meat because he's always talking about becoming a vegan."

"So she'll be called Queen?" Malcolm asked Ghost. He smiled smugly. "I think it suits Her Highness in more ways than one."

"Shut up, you asshole," Mckinley warned him. Malcolm—though her good friend—always believed that she must be some sort of royalty to have been let into the Rangers, and seemed to get on her bad side at the worst of times.

"I think her call-sign _should _be Queen, but only if we get to call her 'Queenie' too," Malcolm chirped to Ghost, ignoring Mckinley's death-glare. The table of FNGs burst into laughter and cheering, supporting Malcolm's proposition. Enraged, Mckinley opened her mouth to object, but Ghost's chortling beat her.

"So it's settled." He put a hand on Mckinley's shoulder. "You're Queen, from now on."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6, by the incredible _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena_. :]

**DISCLAIMER: **neither of us own anything MW2 related. She owns Ryuka, and I, _ecto1B_, own Mckinley (Queen)

Read, Enjoy and review! XD

* * *

**Private Mckinley "Queen" Front**

**Task Force 141**

**Encounter Base – Location Classified**

"The key to every success, Mckinley is confidence," Ryuka told Mckinley, and the younger girl quickly absorbed everything her XO told her. They were at the firing range where most of the 141 were practicing their marksmanship. "Look at MacTavish. That arrogant asshole with the brain of three liters of Scotch is perhaps the best gunner we have."

And as if perfectly on cue, MacTavish shot a perfect bull's eye at the target with the M1911 in his hands, the exact weapon he had used to kill Imran Zakhaev about two years ago. "Thanks for the compliment, Reddie," he said over his shoulder, while Ryuka rolled her eyes.

"However, that does not keep the rest of us from believing that one day, with enough practice, we will beat the crap out him on the firing range," Ryuka continued, taking out her own side-arm, a G18. "However, without the correct thoughts, you will never succeed." The firing range suddenly became quiet, and Mckinley found that all eyes were focused upon Ryuka, for some reason. Without a moment's hesitation, the shot was hired, and the bullet hit a few millimeters away from where MacTavish's had. "But I guess, the Captain is a Captain for a reason…"

Mckinley blinked and stared widely at Ryuka. "Are you kidding me, that was freakin' awesome!" she exclaimed.

"Try telling that to Reddie, Queenie," Meat said, slapping a hand on Ryuka's shoulder. "They've been at it for years, you'll get used to it."

"Yeah, there's a bit of a rivalry going between MacTavish and Reddie," Ghost explained. "Sometimes the Captain wins and sometimes she does. It's all good clean fun, really." His shot was rather much like Ryuka's almost perfect, but skewed a little to the side. However, Mckinley was not paying attention to the bullet per se. She was too busy marveling at the mysterious man always wearing a balaclava.

Ryuka rolled her eyes, and gave Mckinley one of the pistols on the tables, an M9, by the looks of it. "Remember what I told you, and you will be fine."

Nervously, Mckinley accepted the gun and gulped. Of course, all eyes were on her. It was to be the first shot she would fire as a member of the Task Force 141, and she knew that if she had excelled in this shot, perhaps she would gain as much respect the other men had for Ryuka for herself…

_Alright, Mckinley, _ she breathed and told herself. _You can do it!_

The gunshot was heard, and Mckinley had been so afraid that she closed her eyes immediately. Applause went around, as well as some forms of cheering.

"You did it, kid!" Meat told her rather happily.

"Mckinley, it is a perfect bull's eye, my dear," Ryuka praised as well. "Now, we have a chance to be rid of MacTavish's dark oppression!"

It was only then did Mckinley dare to open her eyes and see for herself. "Keep up the good work," Ghost said to her, and it was all that she could ever hear, while he, was the only person that she could see before she shook herself back to reality.

However, the girl remained modest. "It's just a fluke," she said softly, however there were a few men challenging her to do it again, since each of them would be there in the firing range for the whole day. Sighing, she knew that there was no way she could back out of it, and shot again, remembering everything that she had been taught about firing a weapon.

"See, that was clearly not a fluke," Ghost added. This shot was not as perfect as the previous one, but it was close. "You're gonna give Reddie a run for her money, and that's not taking it lightly. And she's the 'super soldier' around here."

Mckinley cast a look towards Ryuka, who was still having a side-by-side shootout with MacTavish. "Let's not bother the two of them shall we?" Ozone piqued, regarding _all_ of the FNGs. "Best leave them be when they're duking it out to the death."

"What's their problem?" Whitaker asked, incredibly curious of the situation, whereby the Captain and one of his Lieutenants looked like they were about to kill one another over something as trivial as who would be a better shooter.

"That's a long, long story to tell, man," Meat said, running a hand through his shortly-cropped hair. "Maybe during dinner."

It was a week since Mckinley had joined the Task Force 141, and so far, so good, she had to say; and as always, the FNGs would dine together during dinner, with one or two of the "older ones" joining them, giving them past anecdotes, tips and whatnot. "Meat, you haven't told us about Reddie and Captain MacTavish!" one of the FNGs exclaimed to Meat, who was "FNG-sitting" that day.

"Yeah, what's up about them?" Whitaker asked. "I just saw them in a very… aggressive sparring match in the gym ring."

Meat sighed. "Well, it's like this, boys… and girl," he said, "Reddie and MacTavish are two very, very similar soldiers, with very, very similar functions. They're both excellent snipers, and come from highly specialized backgrounds. And as they say, you can't fight fire with fire… The two of them met, and BOOM!" He even smashed his fist to his palm for added effect. "From what I've heard, MacTavish enlisted the moment he turned 18, and Reddie… she's an Algren, right? She's literally trained to fight since she was a kid."

"I knew an Algren once," said a Marine FNG. "Real nice guy, except he doesn't go all 'Samurai' mode like Reddie."

"Ah, her katana," Ghost said, who joined their table, seeing that the others were all full. He certainly had a way of appearing anywhere… out of nowhere, or so Mckinley noted. "She never told us anything about it, but she rarely uses it in the field."

Somehow, the FNGs could sense the slight modulation in his tone in his latter few words that made him sound rather dishonest…

"If she does, it means that we're all in deep shit," Meat finished for Ghost, who nodded enthusiastically. "Which happens around… half the time, eh, Ghost old pal?"

"How about just last Tuesday?"

Mckinley's eyes widened. "What happened?" she asked. Why did she suddenly think that she was asking that question more out of concern for Ghost than sheer curiosity?

"We were inserted right in Lhasa to protect the Dalai Lama protesting for Tibetan freedom and stuff," Meat explained. "And the Chinese army was deployed to 'keep the peace'. They were supposed to only use tear gas, but some of them fired live bullets at the monks, and there was a sniper hidden somewhere. So, you could say that we weren't adequately armed…"

Meat was interrupted by young Whitaker again. "So, Reddie just takes her sword out and starts slashing all the Chinese soldiers?"

"Nah, hell no," Meat said. "Matter of fact was, she was standing at a place which enabled her to spot the freakin' asshole and she just gave the Dalai Lama to us and she ran into the temple, finding a monk with a M40A5! Can you guys believe it? A monk! Anyways, the guy wouldn't give up so she had to slash him to defend herself, being low on ammo and all. Turns out the monk was bribed by the Chinese government to assassinate the Dalai Lama…"

It seemed that Ghost seemed to have his own part to tell as well. "But before that, the bloody monk almost got me! I still got the bandage to prove it!" With that, Ghost wound up his sleeve, subconsciously showing the FNGs his well-muscled, albeit injured arm. "Bloody lucky I was only nicked, I was."

"Wow, seems like you guys really are hard core," one of the FNGs commented, the only Australian in this shipment of newbies.

"Yes we are, and we're _bloody proud of it_," Meat chuckled, with an elbow resting on Ghost's shoulder, channeling his friend's English accent.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7, by me, _ecto1B_. Hope you enjoy, and please review :]

**Disclaimer**: Well, you know the drill. Obviously neither of us own anything having to do with MW2. But _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena_ owns Ryuka (Reddie), and I, _ecto1B_, own Mckinley (Queen)

Enjoy! XD

* * *

**Pvt. Mckinley "Queen" Front**

**Task Force 141**

**Encounter Base- Location Classified**

The wind lapped at the entrance to her tent, making the canvas flaps flutter in response. Mckinley watched the eccentric dance for a moment while seated on her cot, marveling in the different motions the wind took the canvas; like a feather, it quivered against the evening breath with elegant moves. Once in a while, the wind would slow or be stalled, and the canvas would return to its stiff, rigid state alongside its twin. And then, as the breeze picked up again, they were back to the unsystematic dance of theirs.

Mckinley found herself somewhat fascinated by how inconsistent the wind was. Never was it subjected to rigorous training regimens, or obliged to fight in a war that it did not completely understand. It wasn't given such difficult decisions like she was, like deciding if she wanted to become a Black Ops specialist alongside some of the most talented and influential soldiers on the planet.

Exhaling slowly and shutting her eyes, Mckinley rested her elbows on her knees, clasped her hands together, and leaned forwards. Her long red hair tumbled downward, becoming a protective veil about her face and letting her eyes absorb the settling darkness.

_What do I do?_

Choosing to follow through with their suggestion would mean pain, much more pain than that of what she experienced during the sixty-one day training she'd received while attending the Army Ranger school. It would mean that she'd have to put every single portion of her ingenuity and vigor into guaranteeing that she was accepted. _And _she'd have to endure forms of torture to become a specialist, not to mention a handful of other requirements.

Choosing _not_ to become a specialist would most likely disappoint her commanding officers. They'd spoken very highly of her, praised her, even. If she backed out, they'd surely stop giving her so much acclamation.

Again, she felt herself sighing. There was a burdening weight seated on her shoulders—she could sense it—and if she didn't get rid of it soon… well, she didn't want to think about that now. Sooner or later, Mckinley would have to give her answer.

A small gust of wind managed to slink past the tent's entrance, and Mckinley, feeling it rush against her cheeks from behind the mass of red hair, lifted her head and tossed her hair back over her shoulders. She was getting mildly used to seeing Ghost's skull-adorned balaclava, but now, when the sun was dipping beneath a glow of pinks and oranges on the horizon, his mask seemed to emit its own light. He truly looked like a ghost standing there, and if she hadn't recognized him instantly, she would've believed herself to be hallucinating.

"Sir?" Mckinley bit her lower lip when he didn't respond at once. His looming figure in her tent's entry was starting to make her nervous, for some reason.

Finally, his face moved from its motionless stare.

"Sorry, Queen, I was—" he paused, coughed, and continued, "—thinking about something…" His voice grew serious as he tried to disregard his strange actions. "I've just come by to ask if you've made a decision yet. About becoming a specialist, I mean."

Mckinley blinked. "Yes… well… erm…" Unintentionally, she diverted her eyes from him and into her tent. "I'm on the fence, to be honest, sir… I really _do _want to become one, but I'm a bit worried that I'm not the right person for the job."

From the corner of her eye, she watched him stroll inside her tent and sit down backwards on the foldable chair across from her cot. He laid his arms on the chair's backrest and then put his chin atop his arms, studying her intently.

"You doubt that you'll be able to handle the position." It was far from being a question. "That's not somethin' I'd expect from you, Queenie. You seem like a very optimistic person."

Shrugging, she glanced up at him. "Truthfully, I'm not. I find flaws in myself that no one else finds. Like today, for instance, at the firing range. I shut my eyes before I fired that perfect shot."

"So?"

She smirked sarcastically. "Tell me you shoot your enemies with your eyes closed."

He disregarded her question. "But your second shot, remember? Your eyes were definitely open that time. I saw 'em."

"What does it matter, really?" Mckinley crossed her legs and leaned back on the cot. Her arms extended straight back, propping her up so she could still see him. "That was one shot. You guys must fire, like, _thousands_ during missions, and I bet only one or two miss."

Ghost chuckled. "I bloody wish that was the truth, lass."

"I have other reasons, too," she went on to say. "Like… not really wanting to be _tortured_."

"Well, that's completely understandable. Though it _is_ for your own safety that 'ya learn to withstand it. And Reddie does the stuff herself; it's not some stranger you've never met before, like it _would_ be in real life."

Mckinley ran her tongue across her top row of teeth. "I'm just still unsure, sir. I mean—" she motioned at him with a flick of her hand, "compared to you, and Reddie, and MacTavish… I look so _inadequate_ and _lame_. And it has nothing to do with the level of responsibility the job entails, I just don't wanna become a laughingstock because I'm a girl and I couldn't complete the training or whatever."

Ghost rapped a finger against his chin, making an effort to solve her dilemma. "What if you tagged along with Reddie on one of her missions to see what kinds of things she does?"

Her eyes glanced downward as she considered his proposal. Taking a few slow breaths, she ran across the idea with a fine toothcomb. She had to admit that his idea was a good one. Ryuka was an incredible soldier, a master at most fields of war. Mckinley already saw her as a role model that she could admire and take after when the time seemed fit. Accompanying the woman on a mission to truly get an aspect on being a Black Ops specialist would only enhance the integrity of her choice.

"That sounds good," she said finally, "but wouldn't she find me as a hassle if I had to go with her? I don't wanna be a burden all of a sudden."

Again, a deep rumble of laughter came from behind the man's balaclava. "Queen, she won't think you're a burden. She supports you. She doesn't want to see you fail."

Mckinley returned to her earlier position on the cot, with her elbows on her knees. "I believe you… but I'd actually prefer to hear those words come from her mouth so I know that's really how she feels, instead of just forcing her to work with me."

"Though I'm pretty sure there's no need, I'll bring up the subject with her tomorrow at breakfast, if you'd like."

Mckinley couldn't help but smile. Since she'd got there, Ghost had seemed to do everything in his power to make her life a little bit easier. He was turning out to be a wonderful leader and friend. Never mind the fact that his bizarre mask seemed to appear out of the blue constantly.

"That'd be great, sir." He stood, and she did the same. "Thank you. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to come to a decision, but—"

Ghost cut her off by approaching her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "First off, it's Ghost, not sir." A smile crease appeared on his mask. "Second, it's completely logical that you're taking your time with the choice. It's a big thing to decide on. I appreciate you finding the matter so important and taking it as seriously as you are." He paused. "You'll do fine, Queen. No matter what you choose." Ghost took a step towards the tent's entrance. "I'll see you in the morning, eh?"

She nodded obediently, having to bite her lip to keep herself from releasing a curious blush into her cheeks.

"Goodnight, sir—I mean, _Ghost_."

"Goodnight, Queen."


	8. Chapter 8

Here's a pretty intense chapter, written by _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena_. :]

Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing this story! We appreciate the comments!

**Disclaimer:** Neither of us own anything MW2 related. _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena_ owns Ryuka (Reddie) and Ryurei. I, _ecto1B_, own Mckinley (Queen).

**Please read, enjoy, and review!**

* * *

Breakfast, like any other meal, was quite the rowdy affair in the Task Force 141. And with the absence of the Captain, who usually was strict with the men and the two girls, things were even getting nosier. Mckinley, on the other hand, enjoyed this kind of relaxed atmosphere, which made the unit seem less… intimidating than she was used to. They were talking to one another, as if there was nothing about to happen at all. It was ironic, really, when they were really the first in action when anything did come up…

"I miss that asshole already," Ryuka grumbled over the incessant chatter. MacTavish, Meat, and Ozone had all left on a routine reconnaissance mission and would not be back in a day or so, leaving the management of the 141 to her and Ghost. Granted, even after several years in the military, Ryuka was still not a morning person. No matter how early she slept the previous night, no one, repeat, no one, could catch her in a good mood before 12 in the afternoon.

Ghost could only laugh heartily at her comment. "Told you that you had a thing for 'Tavish, Reddie," he teased, earning one of her famous death-glares within seconds. Of course, he knew what went on between his co-Lieutenant and MacTavish. He just found it strange that both of them had separately threatened him to keep it a secret on two separate occasions, which completely did not deter him from teasing her about it every now and then.

"Simon, if it were not for the lovely new girl we have amongst us, your head would be boiling with tonight's potatoes in the kitchen," she threatened through gritted teeth. Her wrath did not last long, however, not when she was utterly hungry after an intense round around the training course.

"And what does Queenie have to do with anything?" Ghost asked her, almost challenging her.

"That, my friend, is a question that you must answer yourself," Ryuka replied, her scowl now turning into a mischievous smirk. It was all good clean fun, and they knew where to stop. She knew that it was still early days for Mckinley in the 141. As an FNG, she had yet to earn the respect of the others in the field of combat, and as a woman, it would be doubly difficult. What the young private had to go through was completely different than her own experience, mostly because she was trained specifically for leadership. She, Ghost and MacTavish had all assumed their current positions from the first day the Task Force 141 was formed, meaning that by default, the men had to obey her no matter what, being their XO.

The same cannot be said for young Mckinley. She would have to earn her own place, that Ryuka did not doubt that the girl was special, in her own ways. "Well, there is one thing," Ghost said to her, the mood between them becoming once again, cordial and serious. "She's considering our offer, but…"

"But?" Ryuka interrupted with a raised eyebrow.

"But… she needs to follow you on a mission first, to see things first hand."

Ryuka took a deep breath, and put down her fork. "Simon, MacTavish will flip if I took an FNG out on a mission without clearance," she told him. "And not only that, the mission that I am embarking on is not your average torture mission where I just plug a car battery and shock the person until he submits and gives us the Intel we need."

Ghost understood the severity of Ryuka's new mission, of course. He had attended the briefing as well. They were dealing with a double agent, an Ultranationalist who had infiltrated into a major US weapon-making corporation, but was sent back into Russia to gain information. In the past few months, there had been no progress on both sides, while this man had been receiving vast amounts of money, given no doubt, by both the US and Russia. Ryuka's job was to gain every ounce of information he had and dispose of him appropriately.

"Will you be working with the CIA this time?" Ghost asked further. The CIA was one of the American agencies they have worked the most closely with, apart from the various Intelligence agencies across the world.

Ryuka nodded. "Yes, I am," she replied. "In fact, my sister is presiding over this case. She contacted me after she received word that I would be in New York…" However, she was interrupted by Ghost once again.

"Your sister's in the CIA?" he asked her. "I thought your family all served in the armed forces?"

"She transferred," she told Ghost. "Makes her job… easier, without a uniform." Those were words that meant that Ryuka's sister was even more of a soldier specializing in clandestine operations than she was. Ryuka might have been a Black Ops specialist, but she was more of a designated sniper, much like MacTavish was. "Alright,, I will take your offer on allowing Mckinley to come with me, but if MacTavish finds out, the blame is on you."

Ghost nodded. "No problem," he said, and they shook on it. He could not wait to see Mckinley's face when he passed her the news.

"Uh, Reddie, could you tell me why are we heading to the Metropolitan Opera House in New York again?" Mckinley asked Ryuka, keeping the M9 that she had with her into the handbag that she had been provided with. In fact, the very moment they landed in the American base in Okinawa, they had been equipped with beautiful gowns, and other lavish accessories, which of course, could be used to keep the weapons that they brought with them.

It was a rather dangerous mission, because for obvious reasons, they could not bring their usual rifles with them, especially when the enemy would most probably be more adequately armed than they were. Ryuka stuck a final pin into her hair while their limousine took the exit that would bring them to Naha Airport and said, "We are masquerading as socialites catching the latest rendition of 'Carmen'. Once we get sight of the target, we nab him and continue with our mission."

Mckinley sighed. "Oh…" she replied. "And the CIA's gonna help us out with this right?"

"Well, in a way, yes," Ryuka answered. "We will be briefed on the finer details on the plane. So do not worry."

Once they got into Naha Airport, Mckinley was utterly surprised that they were to fly to New York on a private jet with the CIA agent that was going to work with them for the mission. "Queen, this is Agent Ryurei Algren of the CIA-UN Security Council Intelligence Office," Ryuka introduced the tall, black-haired woman to Mckinley.

"Wait a second," she said to Ryuka. "Did you say Algren?"

The CIA agent chuckled along with Ryuka. "I am Reddie's sister, Queen," she explained. "In the field you can call me Blackie, for obvious reasons." Now that she mentioned it, Mckinley could see the obvious family resemblance. They had the same black eyes, and the same form of speech, and not only that, throughout the flight, Mckinley discovered the same wry humor that Ryuka also possessed.

"The man you are after is Aleksandr "Sasha" Kedrov," Ryurei said. "The last time we had anything about him was that he was in a Russian restaurant in the Tribeca area giving us false information regarding the new list of Ultranationalist armaments." She then turned to Ryuka and said, "If you guys had not destroyed that weapons facility a few months ago, I do not know how many lives could have been lost thanks to this botched Intel no thanks to him."

Ryuka nodded her head and replied. "That is our job, Blackie." The Algren sisters, to Mckinley's surprise, were highly professional. If they had not told her, she would never have guessed that they were sisters at all. "And what do you have on him now?"

"That he would be accompanied by his family for the opera," Ryurei added. "Also, he has beefed up his security detail, because apparently, the Ultranationalists are out to get his blood as well. We do not know how many would be there, but we suspect that they will come in numbers greater than yours."

"So we'll need some sort of diversion?" Mckinley asked, causing the two Algrens to look at her with widened eyes. "Sorry," she quickly apologized. "I shouldn't have spoken out of line."

On the contrary, Ryuka smiled and placed her hand on Mckinley's shoulder. "No, Queen. You have just given me an idea," she replied. Her black eyes were then trained towards her sister. "In fact, we could use a tall, dark beauty as well…"

* * *

**Private Mckinley "Queen" Front**

**Task Force 141**

**Metropolitan Opera House, New York.**

Mckinley was in the foyer, holding a margarita in her hands. Technically, she was not part of the mission, but because she was there to learn from Ryuka, she would be watching her XO from the sidelines as close as she possibly could. Ryuka and Ryurei were with Sasha Kedrov, throwing their most charming smiles at him, while she was to be on the lookout for any "suspicious" figures.

Truth be told, she did not see anything out of the ordinary. Well, except for that strange man in a dark suit that seemed to be watching everyone and everything going on during the intermission. "Reddie," she said into the comms, disguised as a beautiful jeweled pendant. "I think we have company…"

Ryuka did not seem to respond. However, she started to push her hair behind her ear, while moving to circle the rim of her cocktail glass with her index finger. _Queen, move around the room, do not stand there all the time_, she warned Mckinley with the specialized Task Force 141 sign-language that all of their members had to learn apart from Russian (and several other languages).

Mckinley did as she was told, but as she moved around the dark-haired man in the suit was already gone. How strange.

"Well, my beautiful ladies, I believe I have to leave your company," Kedrov said to Ryurei and Ryuka. "There is some business that I must attend to." However, that did not stop him from giving them his number, with a lustful smile. "Call me after this, won't you?"

Ryurei smiled seductively, and nodded. "Oh, we will," she told him. One by one, they filed into the concert hall again, while Mckinley following the Algren sisters closely. They were speaking in Japanese to one another, a language that she did not know at all, but somehow, she could sense that they were being followed.

"Mr. Kedrov," Ryuka said when she chanced upon him getting him back to his seat. The man looked suddenly fearful, and from her movements, Mckinley knew that she was pointing a pistol at his lower back. There was no mistake about it. "I suggest that you should come with us if you value your safety."

Kedrov did not even dare to look at her. "Who… who… are you?" he asked, his voice trembling, but Ryurei warned him not to react to them at all.

"There is no need for you to know who are we," Ryuka answered. "Only that you should come with us if you wish to live…"

At that moment a gunshot was heard. "I'll hold them off," Ryurei said. "I'll meet you and Queen later." Ryuka nodded, and gestured to Mckinley to follow her. They took their cover amongst the droves and droves of scared audiences, running into a dark alley about a few blocks from the MET.

"God, these heels are killing me!" Ryuka cursed and took off her strappy heels while Queen held on to Kedrov as best as she could. Pointing her Desert Eagle that the Russian's temple, she said, "Alright, get up the stairs, now." Kedrov whimpered, and moved up the dumpster in order to reach the emergency staircases behind the row of apartments.

They moved up to the third story. Queen moved the window open and the three of them crawled in. "Who are you working for?" Kedrov asked, but there was no response from either of them. "I swear to you, I am of no value to anyone! I am but a businessman!"

"If you are a businessman, Mr. Kedrov, then what you are selling will cost thousands of lives!" Ryuka barked in Russian. "You can still redeem yourself, you know…"

"I told the Shadow already… I do not know what the US has planned out!" he shouted in fear as Queen chained him onto a chair per Ryuka's instruction. Again, it was something to do with the Shadow of Zakhaev… "Those bases that were destroy could or could not be due to the Americans!"

So, the Shadow of Zakhaev already turned his eye open them… However, Ryuka knew that she could not jump to conclusions without further proof. "What bases?" she asked before slapping the man. "Tell me!"

"I cannot!" he exclaimed. "The Shadow is merciless, he will not only kill me, but my family as well!"

At those words, Ryuka smirked. "Then perhaps you shall learn that I may be just like him…"

Mckinley had never seen this side of Ryuka before. When the doorbell rang as if on perfect cue, Ryurei entered the apartment that they were supposed to be hiding in, with two women that had been bound and gagged: one of them was an elderly woman, and the other, was a child no more than ten in tow…

"Mama… Oksana!" Kedrov cried out.

"Perhaps the Shadow of Zakhaev did not know that you were hiding your mother and daughter in plain sight here in New York?" Ryuka asked again, and walked towards the child, who was crying bitterly. Mckinley did not say anything, but when she saw Ryuka's eyes, she could see that her XO did not choose this to happen at all. "Kedrov, you can save your daughter and mother where you could not save your wife."

"My wife?" he asked Ryuka. "What happened to my wife?"

Ryurei was the one who answered the question. His wife had remained in Russia to keep up appearances. In fact, she was forced to remain in Russia, so that Kedrov would not dare to do anything that the Ultranationalists did not like. "If you loved her more, she would not have died," she replied.

"Lies!" Kedrov exclaimed, "I just talked to her!"

"Many things can change…" Ryuka murmured, and started to reveal the dagger in her hand. "Such a beautiful face…" she praised, looking at his daughter's face. "She would grow into being a beautiful woman… if she had the chance…"

"No, not my granddaughter!" his mother cried. "Take me instead… I beg you!"

By that time, Ryuka's dagger was already so close near the young girl's neck… "Do you not see how your family is suffering, Kedrov? Will you remain to be so stubborn?" she asked. "Such beautiful blue eyes…" Mckinley could not help but to let out a gasp when Ryuka pointed the tip of her dagger to the girl's eye.

"Alright!" Kedrov surrendered. "I will tell you all I know."

As it turned out, Kedrov had been serving directly under Viktor Zakhaev before he died. After that, when the Ultranationalist changed their approach to seize power in Russia, he was sent to America by the Shadow of Zakhaev to act as a spy. But when he was discovered, the United States government told him that they would offer him a great compensation if he sold them information that he would have regarding the Ultranationalists. However, he was a smart man. The information that they had received from them were either outdated, or plans that were never put into motion.

And now, he told them that the Shadow of Zakhaev was sourcing new weapons from other places out of Russia, even NATO weapons. China was one of their secret partners, and so would North Korea be as well… Both countries had sent their brightest scientists and engineers to Russia, in the name of research. "They're planning something big, like the time during Zakhaev's death," he warned. "That is all I know…"

"How can I be sure that what you are telling us is the truth?" Ryuka asked, petting his daughter's head. The girl screamed in utter fear, but she gave the child little heed. "If you can lie to the most powerful country on this earth you can lie to anyone, can you not?"

Mckinley did not understand. No matter how much Kedrov pleaded, no matter how much he begged, Ryuka and Ryurei still remained stoic. She wanted to say something but she couldn't. No words came out of her mouth at all. The man was crying already, for God's sakes! Could they not see it?

"Very well, since you cannot be convinced…" With that, Ryuka plunged the dagger into the child's leg. Mckinley's blood curdled the very moment she heard the girl scream out of pain. And the worse thing was that Ryuka took it out slowly, allowing blood to flow from the wound instantly. "Do you take me as a fool?" she asked Kedrov. "The Ultranationalists do not make the same mistake twice! Zakhaev tried to use that trick on the world, but he paid for it with his life!"

Sobbing tremendously, Kedrov looked at his crying daughter. "I really do not know!" he shouted again and again. "I have fallen out of favor of the Shadow for crimes which I have not committed, how would I know of his latest plans?"

"He's telling the truth," Mckinley said, and was seconded by Ryurei.

"Very well, I will let you go," Ryuka said, and gathered Mckinley and Ryurei. Together, they left the room, and Mckinley suddenly felt unwell… She had not seen anything so… barbaric, so frighteningly inhumane before. Hurting a child and an old lady to get the information they wanted… This was not the Task Force 141 that she had envisioned at all. This was not Ryuka was she had been so famous to be…

The moment they got out of the apartment and back into the alleyways, Mckinley went to the nearest corner and vomited. "It is normal for you to experience this, Queen," Ryuka said, rubbing her hand up and down her back. "I am sorry that you have to see this, especially when we did not get the Intel we needed at all…"

"Not necessarily," Ryurei told her sister, coming from behind them. When Mckinley was a little better, she lead them on, breaking into a run until they reached a brightly-lit street. "We should be safe here," she said, panting a little.

"Safe from what?" Mckinley asked, looking around.

She was answered by an explosion. And when she turned back, the apartment complex that they had been in was completely engulfed in flames.


	9. Chapter 9

Here's chapter 9, written by me, ecto1B :] I hope you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer: **Just look at the disclaimers from the other chapters. We don't own MW2. That's kinda obvious. If the character is one that is NOT in MW2, then chances are they belong to one of us :D

Please review!

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**Pvt. Mckinley "Queen" Front**

**Task Force 141**

**Encounter Base- Location Classified**

Mckinley had hoped and prayed that they'd arrive back at Encounter before breakfast. Though the chances were slim, she thought that if she wished for it hard enough, it might happen. Arriving _after_ everyone woke up and met in the dining hall would result in heaps of inquiries as to where she had been, _what_ she had been doing, and _why_, which, for the time being, were all unanswerable. Reddie had explained that until MacTavish returned from his reconnaissance mission, Mckinley was to tell no one about what she'd just done. Mckinley found that doing so would've been much easier if she'd filed in to the mess hall with everyone else in the morning, without a mysterious absence on her back. But no, their flight landed at noon, and lunch was always served at one at the base. Mckinley's desperate hoping had failed.

The flight back was mostly silent, on her part. Mckinley was utterly repulsed by what had occurred during the mission, and her words to Reddie were brief and unenthusiastic. Even her only bidding of goodbye to Ryurei was a simple dip of her head; she wasn't up for the challenge of opening her mouth longer than what was required in case her stomach decided on ridding itself further of its contents. And she dared not say a word to Reddie about how she was feeling, for there was a sensation of aversion growing inside of her.

What she'd seen had made her blood run cold. Reddie and Ryurei had caused detrimental harm to two innocent lives that were relatives of the subject; an act that severely went against many of Mckinley's beliefs. When she'd imagined 'torture,' Mckinley had pictured things like strong electric shocks and threats, but had not even _imagined_ anything relatively _close_ to what really happened.

Now, Mckinley, having a native Italian as her mother, was an incredibly religious woman. Before she joined the Rangers, Mckinley attended church every Sunday, celebrated religious holidays, and prayed often. Since she had become a soldier, her spare time to pray had depleted greatly, but she continued to say the Hail Mary and The Lord's Prayer at any free moment on the battlefield. Some of the Rangers had called her crazy for her devotion, but she found her religion as an escape from the violence the world threw at her.

It was her beliefs that made her come to grip with what she wanted to do. The only reason Mckinley joined the Rangers was because she felt as if her destiny was to die fighting for her country. She had only accepted the offer to try to become a member of the task force because she thought of it as an opportunity to further protect America; it was a step up from the Rangers, who could only take her so far. And even _that _didn't entail her torturing people. Mckinley, for one, could stand _some_ levels of war, like the shooting enemies from a distance and such. Hand-to-hand combat she avoided at any cost. _Torturing someone_… it was on _so _many levels of immoral that she couldn't stand in the slightest.

When Mckinley and Reddie arrived at Encounter Base after hours of travel, a slightly buoyant Ghost, who seemed to be eager to hear what Mckinley had felt of the mission, greeted them. It _had_ been his idea in the first place, after all. Mckinley had to leave him disappointed, however, as she passed by him without so much as a "hello" or a nod of acknowledgement. Seconds later, as she walked farther away from where he stood, Mckinley overheard Ghost approaching Reddie with a concerned tone in his voice, wondering what had happened. Mckinley didn't stay to eavesdrop; instead, she hurried to her tent and hung around there until it was time for lunch.

She arrived at the dining hall around the same time as her fellow FNGs did. Getting her food (for the sake of getting food, really. She had no intention of eating anything) and sitting down at the nearest table, Mckinley remained quiet and somber. She hoped her inability to converse like normal would signal her friends that she was in no mood to speak. Across the room, Ghost was sitting with Reddie at their usual table, and he kept glancing over at Mckinley as the two officers spoke.

It didn't take long before Mckinley's plan to remain invisible was thwarted.

"Mickey!" It was Whitaker, as loud as always. He definitely didn't care if the entire mess hall could hear him. He slid onto the bench next to her. "Where've you been?"

The other FNGs joined them, surrounding Mckinley. All gave her expectant looks.

"Erm…" Mckinley glanced at them all, reluctant to reply. She was _supposed_ to lie, or even disregard the question altogether. Instead, she went a different approach. "It's… uh… really none of your business, Malcolm."

The men snickered, causing Mckinley's stomach to lurch.

"Oh, c'mon, Mickey. Don't be so vague." Whitaker punched her shoulder playfully. "It's not like we didn't _notice_ you weren't here. Where'd you run off to?"

When she didn't answer right away, one of the FNGs intervened. "Maybe she was down by the lake, messing with Ghost?" Mckinley's jaw dropped and her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, but she didn't have time to argue before the same man spoke again. "I mean, he wasn't here for a portion of the time _she _was gone."

"Shut the _eff_ up," Mckinley said to him the second he stopped talking. "That didn't happen. Reddie was teaching me some new techniques off the base so none of you _asses_ would bother us."

"But then why was Ghost gone?" another asked, only seeming to edge her forward. "We all wondered—"

"We never saw him when were practicing," she cut him off sharply. "Shut up about it, okay?"

"And what's this I hear about you becoming a Black Ops specialist?" Whitaker inquired. "I overheard Royce and Archer discussing it earlier." He paused. "You _do _realize what you have to do if you become one, right? All the nasty shit that's required?"

"Just _shut up!_" Huffing angrily, Mckinley stood up from the table, tossed her uneaten food in the nearest trash can, and stormed out of the mess hall, leaving the table of FNGs in an ominous silence, and the rest of the soldiers in the room in a wave of confusion.


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks to everyone who's been reading this and reviewing :]

This chapter's from _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena_, and it might make you happy :]

**Sassy Satsuma-** You asked if either Ghost or Reddie were higher than the other, and the answer is no, they're equal in rank. That comes down from the boss, too xD

**Disclaimer:** Hasn't changed. We don't own MW2. Ryuka is owned by _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena_, and I, _ecto1B_, own Mckinley.

Please read and review! :D

* * *

If Mckinley was going to be really, really honest to herself, she really did not see Ryuka the moment after they had returned from New York, or Ghost, for that matter. In fact, she could see that several senior members of the 141 had gone "somewhere", but no one would tell her where it was.

And in the absence of her training officer, who had been touted by many in the 141 was "one of their best", Mckinley's head began to swim in many, many questions regarding her. Questions like how could Ryuka remain so calm during that sort of thing, and how her sister was not the least bit disturbed? Also, were… activities like that illegal? Had they no single notion of the Geneva Conventions?

However, the most important one of all could be that whether or not she wanted to stay there. She might be considered to be one of the "best", but at what cost? At the cost of her own soul? No, she could not. Everything about the 141, at that time, seemed to have conflicted with her own religion, and her principles, and as much as she wanted to be recognized for who she was, she did not want to compromise such values that she had held so dear to her own heart.

"I know why you want to leave, Queenie," MacTavish told her when she had went to see him in his office one morning during breakfast. She had her things packed and ready, and she had waited only for his say-so. "Reddie told me everything. Of course, she and Ghost are to blame to take you out in the field before you're even ready, much less a mission like that…"

"Are you kidding me?" Mckinley demanded. "You weren't there sir; you hadn't seen the look on her face, and her sister too! I don't care if they're Algrens, but she stabbed a little girl as if it was nothing!" And as she said those words, she remembered everything, the fear in the little girl's eyes… Her name had been Oksana… How much her father had pleaded for her life… How Ryuka blatantly ignored everything. "How can you even work with someone like that?"

MacTavish sighed. "Look, I know what you're going through here." He was the Captain of the 141. He received reports of every single mission when he did not carry it out himself, and of course he knew what Ryuka had done during these missions. "But you must understand that we are soldiers who will be tasked to do _everything_ that is asked of us, no matter what it is. If you think that this is serious, there's more to come that you can't even handle."

There was much to do in war. And war in and of it, held many different meanings… And Black Operations, whereby torture, arson, homicide, even human trafficking and sabotage, was nothing in comparison the evils one had to do to salvage the world… But when they were dealing with dark enemies like the Ultranationalists, there was no choice but to continue with them. If they had openly attacked the Ultranationalists under the flags that they all had worn, well, the world would be in utter crisis now.

"This… is a normal occurrence to you?" Mckinley asked incredulously. "Won't we all be labeled as war-criminals if anyone found us out?"

MacTavish raised an eyebrow. "Do you know why we're exempt from the Geneva Conventions?" He was sure that he had her completely stunned with those words. No one was exempt from the Geneva Conventions , how was it possible? "It's the same reason why we use call-signs in the field, Queenie. It's not only to protect our identities from the enemy, but we're also considered as being biological weapons, not soldiers. So that if the Ultranationalists found us out, we'll bring the secrets of the 141 to our graves…"

Now, MacTavish knew that she would have assumed that it was all a ploy to placate her, as if she was a little child. No single government would allow such things to happen to its people, nor will any leader would want such a fate to their soldiers. The thing was that they were the best of the best. All of them, even the FNGs, were technically, high-value individuals, would it not be best for them to protect their greatest assets as well?

"You're still young, Queenie," MacTavish said to her. "You don't even know what it means to fight a war that seems to have no end." She had just joined the Rangers for the past year or so, and even then, the Rangers had only been an infantry unit. They would only see action in the frontlines, and these days, the frontlines had counted nothing compared to what had to be done in the backgrounds of the war. "You must learn that war is not only about two countries or a few fighting over one thing or another. It's not about soldiers tearing one another apart."

At those words, Mckinley's previously hard expression softened a little. It was true that she was still young and bright-eyed. Perhaps she had been too naïve as well. In her own will to please her superiors, to prove herself, she had willingly brought herself into this mess. In fact, she knew for a fact that Ryuka had never forced her to even consider her offer, nor did Ghost, for that matter. However, it still did not change the fact that what she had seen…

"Then what about Reddie and Blackie?" she asked the Captain. "How the both of them could be so… normal about this kinda thing?" She remembered Ryuka's eyes, they were burning with utter malice, and there could be no mistake about it.

"See, she fooled even you," MacTavish told her. "You know, more than anything, Reddie is most talented in making other people believe what she's doing is the real thing. That's one of the other reasons why she has the job in the first place. I don't know much about her sister, but Reddie only takes these missions when she completely has to, and Shepherd respects that."

"Sir, with all due respect, it's hard to imagine…"

Mckinley was interrupted by MacTavish. "Where do you think she's gone then?" he asked her. "Reddie has three weeks off, and Ghost and a few of the boys are in Kyoto accompanying her for about a few days. She can't function as a normal soldier after each Black Operation, Queenie. And even after that… a little bit of her dies inside, and it takes a long while before she gets it back…"

There had been tales of an American Black Ops specialist, a long, long time ago. This man had been so good in what he did that he had been one of John F Kennedy's most trusted agents… However, this man had been taken by the enemy, and was forced to turn against his own country without even knowing. Of course, it could be just another legend exaggerated with each retelling, but it was a tale that Mckinley knew, and a tale that had been told to all new soldiers who wished for glory and fame…

"How do you know about that, sir?" Mckinley asked. It seemed strange, that MacTavish, who had been competing with Ryuka over something that she completely did not know of, would understand anything about Ryuka. Why, they were practically hostile to one another!

It was at this moment when MacTavish broke into a smile that she never imagined that he could be capable of. "I'll tell you if you promise me to keep it a secret," he told her, with almost a chuckle. How could he do that in such a serious matter? He took a deep breath, and said, "Queenie, I love her." And as if it was not enough, he gave her the letter of resignation that she had given him just moments before. "I'll give you some time to reconsider, but there's someone else that I want you to meet, lassie."

He opened the door, and Mckinley was stunned at the sight of the person right in front of her. It was Sasha Kedrov...

"Hello, my dear," he greeted, with a stiff nod towards MacTavish. "Shall we have a little walk?"

Mckinley was stunned to see Kedrov alive, and in such a cheerful mood. "I thought that you were…" she said, but closed her mouth in the end, not knowing the proper word to say at all.

"Dead? I thought so too," Kedrov explained. "But the sisters, they had their work cut out for them, you see. The apartment complex we were in, the entire block, in fact, was evacuated before any of us entered. I think that the CIA had conducted the evacuation hours before what happened there. We entered from the back, you see, and you exited from the same place you came in." Now that he said it, Mckinley started to remember that she had never seen the front of the apartments at all. "You see, one of my… captors had been there at the MET that night, and they envisioned this ingenius plot to deter them from looking for me at all."

It seemed like a viable explanation for the explosion, but still, there was one thing gnawing at her mind. "And what about your daughter, Oksana? How is she?"

At those words, Kedrov sighed. "It turned out that the older sister, the CIA agent had already recruited my mother and daughter for this mission. She told them how the Ultranationalists wanted me dead, not because I was selling information to the US, but because I was already of no use to them. My daughter… has cancer… Agent Algren gave me footage where she asked Oksana if she would do anything to help me, and she just agreed to it instantly. When she told her that her sister would have to stab her, Oksana said that she was accustomed to pain, from all the treatments that she had. Anyways, Agent Algren had her leg to be under regional anesthesia, so Oksana was really acting. And now, besides her… condition, my daughter is completely fine."

Mckinley was surprised… Very surprised to hear those words at all. "So, what are you guys gonna do now?" she asked Kedrov.

"Well, child, we have to enter the U.S. Witness Protection Program now, and hope for the best," Kedrov answered. "I'm Mr. Fields now, and my accent is explained by coming from a huge Russian family…" For someone who had seen his daughter being almost blinded and had her leg stabbed so brutally, he was all smiles, at the very least. "You know, the younger Algren sister cares a lot about you. When the Ultranationalist had his eye on you, she quickly warned you to move away. If she had not kept her watch on you... frankly, I daren't think what will happen."

Mckinley knew that whatever the case, she really had to thank Ryuka for that. She was not officially in the 141 yet, and already she owed her life to Ryuka. "Thanks, Mr… Fields," she said to Kedrov, acknowledging his new name. "I hope to see you soon."

Kedrov broke into a hearty laugh. "Well, I do not wish to see you anytime soon!" he joked. "And oh, I didn't catch your name… Miss?"

"My name's Mckinley Front, Mr. Fields," she told Kedrov, a smile soon approaching her face. "Thanks for everything!"

"Do not mention it!" he said, and put on his hat and left Encounter Base, leaving Mckinley with MacTavish right beside her.

She turned towards the Captain and sighed. "Can I say something, sir?" she asked him. MacTavish nodded, a silent agreement for her to continue. "When Reddie comes back, could I stop the Black Ops training? I know that I'm not really cut out for that sort of thing anymore, no matter what the outcome might be."

"I'll do just that, lassie," MacTavish replied. "I'll do just that."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter by me, _ecto1B_.

Oh, I just quickly wanted to make sure everyone knew that this story in now way is affiliated with my story "The Ghost That Haunted Me." Just lettin' you all know :]

**Disclaimer**: We don't own MW2. _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena _owns Ryuka, and I own Mckinley

Read and review! xD

* * *

**Pvt. Mckinley 'Queen' Front**

**Task Force 141**

**Encounter Base – Location Classified**

A few days later, Mckinley had completely recovered from the events that had transpired earlier that week, and she was feeling much better than she had before. It had all come down to a incredibly positive ending, and she was satisfied with how everything had turned out. Without Ghost, Ryuka, and a handful of the 141 soldiers to keep her company, however, (as they were off in Kyoto for a while, like MacTavish had said) Mckinley found refuge with her fellow FNGs. They'd forgiven her for her outlandish behavior and pretended like it had never even happened. Mckinley was glad they were so accommodating to the situation; she hadn't meant to yell at them, she'd just been stuck underneath a mountain of stress involving her decision. And now that she'd asked MacTavish to end her specialist training—even though it had seemed much harsher than it really was—Mckinley was back to her regular training to become a simple member of the Task Force.

It all started, really, one day as she and a few FNGs were playing a quick game of basketball before dinnertime. Today, Toad was looking after them, and in this case, it automatically made him the referee for the game. He watched from the sidelines, calling out foul shots and things, a smile wide on his lips for the entirety of the game.

Mckinley, who was only playing for fun, could not shoot a basketball to save her life. Honestly, she didn't care. Basketball had never been her favorite sport, but it was still as entertaining as ever. She preferred watching the guys duke it out on the court—while she stood safely on the sidelines. Occasionally she'd try and sneak off the court to join Toad in his refereeing, but Whitaker continued to catch her and pass her the ball.

"C'mon, Mickey! Shoot the ball!"

After a while of playing, the boys finally realized how terrible of a shot she was. It became more obvious when one of her misfires soared over the backboard and to the end of the opposite court. She apologized for her utter incapability, and even retrieved the ball for them, but they persisted to tease her about the shot.

"What were you aiming for, huh? The fricken' _moon_?"

"It was like you were throwin' a _baseball_!"

"Y'know, the ball ain't a hot potato. You didn't have to get rid of it so fast…"

Unlike before, Mckinley found their remarks hilarious. Especially since none of them involved Ghost and her having some sort of fling by the lake. She laughed along with them, playfully punching shoulders and swiping the ball away from unsuspecting players whenever she could.

Everyone was too busy with the game to notice five figures making their way across the base towards the court. It was Toad who finally pointed them out, disrupting the game briefly as everyone glanced to see who was approaching.

"Can we join the game?" It was Meat who spoke, jogging onto the court and holding out his hands for the ball. Ozone, Archer, Boxer, and Ghost—the other members of the now-arriving group of soldiers—joined Toad and Mckinley on the sidelines to watch the game.

"You guys just get back from Kyoto? How was it?" Toad asked. He didn't notice that Mckinley was doing her best to focus her attention onto the game and not onto Ghost, who casually went to stand next to her. Mckinley knew that Ryuka had obviously told him about how she'd acted after the mission, and she didn't want to discuss any of it.

"Yeah, it was good," Ozone answered for the group. "Reddie will be coming back earlier than she said she would, though. Probably tomorrow or the day after."

Archer turned his head towards Mckinley. "Hey, Queen?"

She let her eyes only momentarily look in his direction before returning her gaze to the basketball court. "Yeah?"

"I heard a rumor from 'Tavish that you almost left us… on purpose." Many eyes snapped to gape at the only woman standing among them. "What's the deal on that?"

Clearing her throat, Mckinley finally faced them. She was through trying to hide the truth from these men. They were just too nice, and the basketball game was starting to bore her. "Yeah, 'Tavish was right, I almost left. I wanted to go back to the Rangers and never have to deal with another mission like what I experienced as long as I lived." Ghost's face changed behind his balaclava; A few crease marks appeared. "I was scared, and I thought that was my only solution. But they cleared everything up for me, and 'Tavish said I could remain here in the Task Force, but not be a Black Ops specialist. I mean—" Mckinley tapped her fingertips against the skin on her lower neck, "—I dunno about you guys, but some of that crap _seriously_ had me scared _shitless_. I couldn't stand it!" She shrugged and smiled. "But now you're all stuck with me, and there's nothing you can do about it."

From on the court, Meat laughed. "Oh great, guys, she's getting cocky! You better watch out!" He dribbled the basketball up to the net and dunked it in, then grabbed it again and tossed it to Mckinley. "Hang on a second, Queenie. You have to _earn_ your way into the team by making a perfect shot, first."

Mckinley, giggling, jabbed at him with her thumb and met the gaze of Whitaker. "Hey, Malcolm, you didn't tell him about how much I _suck_ at basketball?"

* * *

"Queen?"

Mckinley spun around to see Ghost standing behind her, only this time, his tinted sunglasses were missing from his face. Now, scanning across her fervently was a pair of wide azure-colored eyes.

"Um… yeah, hey, Ghost. What's up?" Stunned by the newly awakened appearance of Ghost's rather dazzling eyes, she tucked a lone twirl of crimson red hair behind her ear and looked up at him. Another spur of a blush swarmed into her cheeks as she did so, which confused her.

_Why the hell do I keep blushing around this dude? I mean, seriously. I don't 'like' him like that. Don't people blush around people they have crushes on or something?_

A heavy sigh escaped from behind the mouth of the skull on his mask. "Look… Queen… I… I never meant for 'ya to get so _frightened_ on that mission with Reddie…" He seemed to be struggling to find the right words to say. "I only suggested the idea hopin' you'd—well, not _like_ it, exactly… but more _respect_ the job and find that it suited you. I didn't mean for it to make you _sick_ over and want to leave. And I—"

"Ghost, it's all right," she said kindly, cutting him off before he could fit in another method of apology. "It's not even your fault. You shouldn't be apologizing at all. It's over. I'm not hurt, Reddie's not hurt, no one's _dying_ or anything, and _nothing_ is your fault. It's not something you should be getting worked up over." She smirked. "Like I said back on the basketball court, you guys are stuck with me. What happened on that mission is done." She paused to add emphasis. "I'm over it."

"Are you sure—"

"I'm _sure_, Ghost." Giggling, Mckinley nudged him on the shoulder with her fist. "Now let me go to bed, _sir_, if you would. I'm dead tired from getting my ass beat in basketball." She glanced over her shoulder at the row of tents. Her cot was almost calling out to her through the darkness, demanding her company.

Ghost's responding chuckle still carried traces of hesitancy, but he took a step in the direction of his own tent, which wasn't far from hers. "Well… as long as you think you'll be okay… g'night, then."

"G'night, Ghost."

Just as she was shoving the tent flaps aside, Ghost's voice rang out again.

"Queen!"

"What?" she asked in a sarcastically annoyed whisper. If he was about to apologize one more time…

His head was poking through his own tent entrance, and his eyes seemed to be laughing.

"I forgot to say somethin'. Welcome to the one-four-one."


	12. Chapter 12

Here's chapter 12, by _Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena_!

**Disclaimer: **If you don't get it now, you never will. We don't own MW2. She owns Ryuka, I own Mckinley.

Read and Review!

* * *

"Welcome to the 141."

Those words meant to Mckinley more than anything, especially after she had come back from that… disastrous mission. In fact, all of them were welcomed into the 141, officially. Their batch had been one of the most successful batches of FNGs, where all of them had gotten through the arduous 2 week-long training program. Now, with their new call-signs, and a new place in life, all of them had been sent out into town by Shepherd, who stopped by to congratulate them.

"Go ahead, and have fun," he told them, on one of the few rare opportunities they would have a whole weekend off. "You guys deserve it."

Of course, everyone in the 141 was happy, even MacTavish. He took a few FNGs, along with Meat and Archer off bar-hopping, along with a dirty-blond haired man that she had never seen before, leaving the two girls wondering why men favored alcohol so much. "Do you drink much, Mckinley?" Ryuka asked Mckinley as they walked aimlessly about town, moving from store to store. They passed by the boys, who were going into another bar, and waved to them before entering a quaint little shoe-store.

"No, not really," Mckinley replied, her eyes spying on a style that she liked, while Ryuka just looked over the shelves. It was strange really, being in the Russian town so close to Encounter Base. Mckinley often wondered if the locals knew that there was the military base 10 miles away had been one that belonged by the enemy, and it seemed that they were blissfully unaware of it.

Her answer made Ryuka chuckle. "I do not as well," Ryuka said. An awkward moment passed between them, the previous scars of that fiasco in New York still fresh in one another's mind. Soon, they exited the outlet, and went into the park area, where they sat on a bench, staring into nothingness. "Mckinley, I…"

"I know what you're about to say, Ryuka," Mckinley told the other woman. All of a sudden, using her first name seemed appropriate for her, and she did not know why. "And frankly, you already arranged everything with your sister, right? Why didn't you tell me?"

This kid had a sharp mind, and Ryuka knew it. However, she was not the Lieutenant that Mckinley thought she was, and she was not about to lie about it. "I did not know that my sister had placed Oksana under regional anesthesia on both her legs," she told Mckinley, whose jaw went slack immediately. "She did not tell me anything, but because she knew that I deemed that stabbing the child's leg would cause her enough pain to make her father give in to us, she prepared accordingly…"

Mckinley's eyes widened. "What do you mean?" she asked. She did not understand… What would lead Ryuka to find such a… horrifying way to retrieve Intel so badly? To hurt a child so that she could get to the father?

"Mr. Fields is only a little fish to catch a bigger prey," Ryuka answered. "If I had tortured only he, it would not take long before he would give us the same information we need. However, Mr. Fields has many enemies, and one of them is the chief prize among all…"

Yes, Mckinley remembered now. They had said something about the 'Shadow of Zakhaev'… Who was that guy, and what does he have to do with Zakhaev and the Ultranationalists? "And what about that guy?" she asked further, a question to which Ryuka answered duly, using the appropriate code-words.

"He is as he is named for," the other woman answered. "The old man's Shadow, in every sense of the world. Some say that he is the true leader of Russia, and I have placed it upon myself to discover who he actually is. But it seems, that in my own zealotry, I have caused more harm than I had intended to…"

"I don't understand…" Mckinley said, trying to look into Ryuka's black eyes. "Why would you do that?" she asked Ryuka further. "Oksana was just a kid!"

For a long while, Ryuka was silent. "I would understand if you would not wish to speak to me again," she told Mckinley, who was getting more and more confused by the moment. "But when I was in that setting, something… dark took over me, something that I can never explain. I felt powerful, and I felt unstoppable, without any need of morals or humanity… In my head, what I only knew was that as long as Mr. Fields was unwilling to provide us with the information that we need, he could be persuaded using such methods, and all would be put right once we have captured the Shadow…"

"But it doesn't," the young Private said firmly. "Why can't you see that?" She could not believe it at all! She thought that Ryuka was a kind, gentle soul! The woman before her was not the co-Lieutenant of the Task Force 141, she was an utter monster! How could Shepherd even trust a person like her to act as an XO of such an important unit like the 141 when she placed so little value on the lives of the civilians caught in the middle of a war? More importantly, how could MacTavish love a woman like her?

"That is the price of war," Ryuka answered. "And I will repay what I have owed with my soul."

Mckinley knew that she couldn't take it anymore. That woman was impossible! How could she…

Repulsed and utterly disturbed by how calm Ryuka had been, how she had admitted to willingly torturing a kid who had totally nothing to do with her, Mckinley stood up from the bench chair and started walking into an opposite direction, not caring where her two feet might take her, or that she was highly unfamiliar with the area.

Soon, her tired legs brought her to a familiar place, but one that she could not name. "Bloody hell, Queenie, what're you doing here?" That voice… It was Ghost! But when she turned around, all she saw was that strange man that had been exiting Encounter Base with MacTavish! So, this was how he looked without that damned balaclava on! But she had no time to even say anything. He took one good glance at her and noted her sour expression. "Judging from where you came from, you walked off after you've talked to Ryuka, didn't you?" Mckinley did not really know how to react to Ghost's words. So, she just nodded, and put her fingers to her temples, as if she was nursing a headache or a migraine.

"That woman is nuts!" she exclaimed. "The kid… she tortured a freakin' kid, Ghost! And the worse thing is that she's not one bit ashamed of it!"

Ghost knew what Mckinley was talking about, and he knew that Ryuka had gone too far this time as well. In fact, Shepherd had just given her a strong reprimand about it, and told her that she would be forced to see a shrink every two weeks if anything of the like happened again. Her older sister was also forced to take two month's worth of leave when the CIA found out about it.

"I know, I know," he told the girl. "'Tavish wasn't so happy about it either, you know? After what he told you and everything…" He went on to tell her that Shepherd had been furious to read a report that Kedrov's daughter was harmed during the interrogation, and Ryuka had told him the exact same words as she had done Mckinley.

"I don't want to be like her," Mckinley said. If this was what it meant to be a warrior like Ryuka, she would not want a single part of it. She could take all the fame and glory for herself, all Mckinley wanted was to serve and protect her country and the world, and that ideal had never changed, even if she was now a formal member of the 141.

Ghost chuckled. "Of course you don't," he said, blue eyes looking straight at her. She had to admit, they were pretty captivating. "No one expects you to be another Reddie Algren," he told her. "One of them is enough, I would imagine." In all honesty, Mckinley did not know what to say in return. "Everyone's special, don't even try to be anything else but yourself."

With those words, Ghost did the rather unthinkable. He held a calloused hand to her face and inhaled deeply. Without a moment to lose, he leaned in and kissed her. It was not anything that would have sent the world crashing down in seconds, or something compared to thunder and lightning. In fact, it happened so fast that Mckinley tried her utmost best to recall it happening.

But still, the warmth on his lips upon hers… it could not be denied… All of a sudden, the dubious methods of her superior seemed to be far, far away, and only the sensation of the kiss, however fleeting, remained. However, another question did arise in its place, and it was:

"What the hell just happened?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

by ecto1B

_(I own Mckinley, and Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena owns Ryuka. None of the MW2 characters are owned by us)_

* * *

Dazed and confused, Mckinley found herself stumbling back down the streets of the Russian town, hoping to come across the park she'd stormed from earlier. She needed to sit down, and a bench was all she desired. The comfort of the wooden seat and its reliable stability would be enough to wake her from this dream.

_Ghost… he kissed me._

The thought was almost enough to totally wipe her out. Her knees shook as she walked, giving her all the more reason to hurry on her way and locate the park.

_Why did he kiss me?_

The park appeared in her line of sight. With a sigh of relief, Mckinley set her eyes upon the closest bench—one that sat beneath a small tree to provide a bit of shade—and soon collapsed upon it. A few of the natives flashed her strange looks as she did so, but their glances were fleeting as they made their way past. Slowly, Mckinley leaned back against the wood bars and let her long red hair tumble down its length. She stared up into the web of leaves and branches above her, briefly admiring their complexity. But again, her prominent mindset pervaded any chance of relaxation.

_Am I glad that he kissed me?_

She shook her head rigorously to rid herself from these musings, and slowly settled herself lower on the bench. Perhaps a few minutes of sleep would help her forget… A smile perched itself upon her lips just before the red-haired woman drifted into a steady slumber, with the chirping of the birds and the rush of the town around her providing a convenient white noise as she slept.

* * *

"Queen, have you heard a single word I've said?"

Mckinley blinked back the bleary-eyed gaze that consumed her. "Sorry, sir." She addressed Captain MacTavish with the remaining bit of strength she had, which, in all honesty, wasn't much. Because the team was given the weekend off, Mckinley had taken advantage of the downtime to catch up on some sleep, and being abruptly awoken by her CO Monday morning was not the way she'd intended on approaching the week. "No, I think I was… zoning out…" Her hair fell in waves on the table, billowing around her elbow. "I did catch the bit about you going on a special op to retrieve some intel…"

The man sighed, obviously agitated. "No, Queen. I was sayin' how I believe _you_ and _Reddie_ should go on the op, and that Ghost and two others will accompany you. I'm not going." He paused, pursing his lips. "Shepherd has assigned me a different mission for the time being."

Mckinley was fine with the information, but the bit about Ghost unnerved her. He'd done the unthinkable and kissed her Saturday afternoon, and since then, Mckinley had strived to avoid him. If he regretted the action at all, she didn't want to know. Being forced to work with him on a mission after avoiding him all weekend? Not one of her desires.

"Where is our mission to?"

"If you can believe it, a place in Azerbaijan has some important intel for us." MacTavish crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes a bit at the woman seated in front of him, as if he was trying to understand where her tiredness was coming from. "Reddie will tell you more about it on the way over. This will be your first _official _mission, so you might want to start gettin' suited up now. You leave around 1500 hours." Another pause. "… Are you sick, Queen?"

Mckinley had been slowly drifting back to sleep as he rambled about the mission, but when his words stung with the slight edge of significance, she immediately sat up in her seat. "_No_, sir, sorry." She rubbed her eyes. "Just tired."

"You were in your tent sleepin' for a good portion of the weekend," he remarked. "Didn't get as much sleep as you would've liked?"

With a nod, the woman pulled herself from the chair, knowing that if she rem ained there any longer, she'd surely fall asleep. "Just had a lot on my mind, I guess." She straightened her spine and rolled her shoulders. "But yes, I'm up for a mission. Reddie, Ghost, and I…"

"I was thinkin' that friend of yours, Whit—I mean, _Whiskey_, could join you." Now that call signs had been given to each of the new soldiers, Mckinley found it amusing to see the commanding officers try and remember each one. Whitaker had been given one that suited him pleasantly: Whiskey, his guilty pleasure. "And one of our more seasoned soldiers, Rocket, will come along, as well."

"Sounds like a plan," Mckinley said before yawning. "Let me just run the course a time or two to wake up, and then I guess I'm off to Azerbaijan." When MacTavish dipped his head and began to exit the mess hall, Mckinley stopped him. "Um, sir? Where did you say you were going again? You're not going by yourself, are you?" It puzzled her that he seemed to have no objection in being separated from Ryuka, but perhaps something had gone on behind the scenes that she was unaware of. She did not intend to pry, but curiosity was a curse she'd been graced with.

The captain shut his eyes for a moment. "No, Archer and Chemo are comin' with me. The location's not important to you, Queenie. Your mission should be all that matters."

She got the message. He didn't want to talk. "All right, sir. I understand." For a moment, she mulled over things in her head. "Sir… one more question.

The corners of his lips twitched. "Yes?"

"… Do I _have_ to wear a catsuit?"

Finally, MacTavish broke past all seriousness and laughed at her honesty, and Mckinley smiled. To make a man laugh, a man who had already become prominent fatherly figure in her career, was a pretty effective way to boost her self-confidence. And for a moment, Mckinley held her grin, thinking about how this man was her captain, a CO in love with his female XO.

Hopefully he'd needed that laugh.

* * *

_Cat_calls, Mckinley determined, were definitely meant for _cat_suits.

"It's not something to get worked up about, guys," she growled, barely moving her lips. She stood in the doorway of the mess hall, hands at her sides and knees locked tight, for the moment she'd opened the door, all eyes were on her. "You don't have to be immature about it." Despite her utter embarrassment, those that had recently joined the Task Force along with her continued to catcall. Whitaker—or Whiskey, as he was now named—was the one doing most of the teasing. He stepped away from the table his buddies had claimed and approached the woman.

"Jeez, Queenie," he smirked, and she glared. "I bet if the Army Rangers knew you looked this good in Kevlar, they'd have kept you back at Firebase!"

Her face turned beet red as more catcalls sounded. "It isn't funny, Whit. This is what Ryuka gave me to wear on missions. It's made to protect me." She bit her lip. "I never said I liked it."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean _we_ don't!" someone called from the back of the hall, and his table erupted into cheers.

Mckinley didn't know how much more of this she could take. Was it a mistake to have come inside the hall? She stared down at the intricately woven suit she wore and cursed herself for even agreeing to put it on. How could she have been so stupid? Would she ever get anything right while a member of the Task Force? In the Rangers, women wore regular military fatigues like their male brethren so as to not spark any conflict between the groups. Here… Mckinley realized that she suddenly felt more exposed than she would like. She'd never been proud of her body, and here, standing before her team in this catsuit, she felt worse than she usually did, and it had taken an entire mess hall of men to make her feel like this.

Around her, the men roughhoused amongst themselves, proud of their deeds and completely oblivious to the fact that the woman before them was fighting back tears. Not even the senior members of the Task Force seemed to care, until someone put a hand on Mckinley's shoulder.

"Hey, _be quiet_, the lot of ya!"

The voice was so strong, so fixed, that its words bounced off the walls of the mess hall and made every man inside freeze in their tracks.

"Maturity, gentlemen." Another voice, slightly musical and toned with the words, joined the first voice. "Something you all seem to lack. Hassling the girl will get you nowhere, I can assure you."

Mckinley didn't need to look behind her to see that Ghost and Ryuka had joined her in the doorway. Suddenly, she felt like leaving a lot sooner, even though they were coming to her rescue.

"Reddie's right." Ghost walked past Mckinley into the very center of the hall. He glanced around, letting his skull-adorned mask and tinted sunglasses do the intimidating. "Leave her alone. That's no way to treat a fellow comrade. It doesn't matter wha' she wears, as long as she's a good soldier, and from wha' I've seen, she's helluva good one." Mckinley shut her eyes and wondered if, perhaps, the kiss had not been some mere accident at all. "So leave her be."

Silence stretched for a few seconds before Ryuka motioned to Whitaker and Rocket. "We are about to board the chopper. I suggest the two of you retrieve your equipment."

Whitaker, not meeting Mckinley's eyes, and Rocket filed out the door towards the barracks, and then the mess hall seemed to return to normal. Conversations picked up, and quickly regularity was restored. Mckinley breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you ready, Mckinley?" Ryuka asked, widening her eyes a bit. Ghost strolled back to them, also pivoting his head to look at the girl. "We do need to start making our way over to the chopper."

Mckinley's cheeks burned. "I'm ready," she responded quietly. No matter if they saved her from being harassed, she was still at unease with both of them. "I'll meet you outside."

And with that, Mckinley exited the building, not taking notice that Ghost was whispering something urgently into Ryuka's ear as she left.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14, by Arhani 'Hanny' Daforcena :)

Note from Arhani: the Kevlar suit looks very similar to that of Trinity's (from the Matrix) and Selene (from Underworld). It is not a revealing uniform in the slightest, it actually covers up the wearer entirely.

* * *

Chapter 14

**Pvt. Mckinley "Queen" Front**

**Task Force 141**

**Location- Classified (En route to Azerbaijan)**

"How do you do it?" Mckinley asked Ryuka out of a sudden. She could not stand the awkward silence between herself, Ghost and Ryuka, and she knew that she must do something to mend the situation. The only subject worthy of conversation in her head at the moment was the catsuit and nothing else. She did not understand how the other woman could carry herself in such a way that she did nor garner any… unwanted male attention at all.

Ryuka raised her eyebrows at Mckinley's question. "Pardon?" she asked, glancing at Ghost who shrugged gently.

There was just only one thing to do for the Ranger, and that was to take a deep breath and rephrase her question to be more specific. "I mean… how do you wear this… thing and not get all the, you know, cat-calls and wolf-whistles?"

To that end, a half-smile emerged on Ryuka's face. "When you have a certain authority over the boys, they will see you in a different light," she explained, moving across the chopper to sit next to Mckinley, so that they could talk more easily. "I was no different than you were when I first got the suit, to be honest. There were only 30 of us then, and well, being the only girl, MacTavish did not allow me to live it down."

Mckinley balked. MacTavish did not strike her as that kind of character at all. Yes, he was prone to tolerate the mischief of his subordinates, but not create it himself… "What did you do?" she asked, curiosity getting into her head once more.

This time, Ryuka sighed. "I want to tell you that I was able to shut them all up by showing them who was boss, but in the real truth, I did not succeed at all. Ghost, here, even took photographs of me scowling all over the place." Mckinley shot a glance towards Ghost, who overheard the conversation and waved two pointed fingers at them, almost like a salute. "However, when I started to run missions with the suit, well, things started to change and we all got used to it."

For the next half an hour, Ryuka began to relate to Mckinley how the catsuit helped her to stay as light and mobile as she possibly could, because as a woman, she would not be able to carry the same weight as the men did anyways. They would be armed with sometimes two weapons at most, she, however used her katana as a side-arm. The catsuit was made of special fibers that were meant to be light and durable, while what seemed to be the Kevlar corset was actually not more different than the Kevlar that the men wore, just more fitted and less bulky. The boning actually gave more support to the wearer in terms of posture; the side advantage (or disadvantage) was that it looked somewhat like a corset.

"So, at the end of the day, the catsuit's just plain old military gear?" Mckinley asked Ryuka, concluding their conversation.

"Yes, it is just plain old military gear, for select individuals, namely you and I," Ryuka answered. "Just think of it that way, and you will carry yourself in it in a whole different manner."

The thought of it was beginning to grow on Mckinley, and she began to look less… concerned. "Thanks…" she said towards the XO and received a pat on her shoulder in return.

"Do not mention it, remember, I am here to help you, not make your life hell," Ryuka replied and went back to her original place. It would take them a few more hours to reach their drop-off point, and she knew that it was more than enough time to put Mckinley's mind at ease at least for now.

Looking back at how the younger woman had acted around her, Ryuka understood that there was no way that she could undo what she had done in New York a few weeks prior… She needed to makeup up to Mckinley in any way possible. If this small little gesture of making her feel more comfortable before the mission really dawned upon them, then at least her guilt will be quelled for at least a small while.

"You know, Reddie, I'm responsible for Queenie's hard time among us too," Ghost said to Ryuka, out of earshot of Mckinley, further making sure that she was asleep before he said those words. "I shouldn't have got her to come with you to New York. What was I thinking?"

"You wanted to give her a chance to prove herself so that she could stay with us," Ryuka answered his rhetorical question. "There is… something about her, isn't it? Something special about her… I have never seen such drive and enthusiasm in a soldier, man or woman."

Ghost grinned. Ryuka knew him long enough to notice it under his balaclava and sunglasses. "Coming from an Algren, that's pretty good, innit?"

Ryuka did not say anything else, but only smiled and nodded.

**_Three Hours Later_**

Whitaker had just woken up from his slumber, and already the rest of the team was gearing up for the operation. He was lucky, because Ryuka and Ghost were already starting to brief them about the mission.

"We're only gonna say this once, so listen up!" Ghost warned. "We're here to steal information from the military outpost nearby. We've gotten Intel that said that Vladimir Makarov has plans for St. Petersburg, and whatever it is, we're there to steal his plans so we can anticipate his next move. This base is high in the mountains, so the only way in or out is by chopper. Once in, Reddie will be on sniper duty and we'll move into the base about two clicks away."

There was a slight pause, and Ryuka, already armed continued. "As with all of Makarov's outposts, there is only one computer room in the central part of the base. Once you are in there, Rocket will insert hack into the system and copy whatever the computers have into this hard drive." She finished the sentence and passed a hard drive to Rocket. "It is fairly simple, actually, you get in, get the Intel and get out. One word of caution, though. Makarov was suspected to have ties with the Ultranationalist government. He appears to hate them to the utter core of his being, but you may never know the truth. That is why we need this information so badly."

The rest of them quickly nodded, and Ghost wrapped the briefing up. "Remember, this is your first official mission, Queen and Whiskey, so I want you to remember this, it might save your lives. Think fast, and no real names!"

"Don't worry, we'll have your backs," Rocket reassured the two FNGs, and they thanked them in return.

"Bravo Team, you are ready for drop-off," the pilot of the helicopter announced. "We'll see you at the exfil point!"

At those words, the four-person team quickly descended from the helicopter via rope and landed onto a mountainous trail. "This is where I leave you," Ryuka said after about twenty minutes of walking. They had arrived at a fork in the road, and one path would lead to the outpost while the other would be her sniping position at higher ground. "Good luck for the mission!"

"Thanks, Reddie!" Whitaker said, giving her a thumbs up before quickly following Ghost into the base.

Mckinley nodded at the other Lieutenant and she was soon on her way.

They were all silent on the way into the outpost and soon they heard the sounds of dogs barking. "Wow, dog patrols," Rocket grumbled while rolling his eyes. "How… original."

Ghost put his finger to the front of his face. It was the universal signifier of silence. "They're getting closer," he muttered beneath his breath.

"A little too close for comfort, perhaps?" Ryuka's voice entered the comms. Right before their eyes, the two dogs and their handler collapsed one by one. Upon closer inspection, they discovered that they were right in front of the base, and the dog patrol was not the only line of defense that the outpost had.

"Thanks, Reddie," Ghost said, looking around at all directions to make sure the coast was clear. "There, through that door!" he said, gesturing at a door that was left ajar after Ryuka shot down the man that was supposed to be guarding it.

Once they were in, they started to look around their surroundings, trying to figure out where in the outpost they were. "The computer room is across the courtyard," Ryuka said, "However, I suggest caution, there are at least twelve men there, and they are fully armed."

"Dogs?" Rocket asked.

"No dogs."

"I will go for the one with Stalin on his neck," Whitaker announced.

"Whiskey, not the one with Stalin!" Ghost hissed, but it was too late. The man was already dead before he could stop Whitaker. There was a flurry of voices, all speaking in Russian, and they were all heading towards them. The whole outpost was alerted, and they were in it for the fight of their lives, so to speak. "Reddie, get off the .50 cal and get in here, now!"

Ryuka harrumphed, clearly not at Ghost's order. "I'm on my way," she replied, quickly packing up to regroup with them.

Mckinley could have sworn that her heart started to beat 50 times faster than it usually did. For some reason, something told her that this was more than a routine mission, and by the amount of people that was coming towards them was more than she actually dared to imagine.

"Alright, change of plans," Ghost said. "Queenie, you'll go with Rocket into the computer room and cover his arse while he works. Whiskey and I will hold the fort until Reddie gets here." There was no need to say anything else, they quickly went their separate ways while Ghost and Whitaker strutted into the courtyard. Since their cover was already blown, they had no choice but to fight their way out.

"Do you think Ghost and Whiskey will be okay?" Mckinley asked Rocket the very moment they took down the men in the computer room. She looked towards the window and found the two of them to be alive and well.

Rocket took a quick look and nodded. "If anything, Ghost is a survivor, and we have Reddie on our backs," he answered, delivering keystroke after keystroke with furious speed. She had never seen one operate a computer that fast before, let alone one that has software systems completely in the Cyrillic alphabet.

"Rocket, how much longer do you need?" Ryuka's voice sounded after what seemed to be an eternity. She was already there in the courtyard, making do with a fallen weapon that was left lying on the ground. The enemy soldiers were relentless, as always, and they had no way of knowing if they would stop coming in waves.

"Just… a little… more…" Rocket said, looking at the screen to ascertain that the transfer was near completion. Mckinley bit her lip as she prepared to rush out of the door with Rocket and the hard drive.

Three seconds…

Two…

One…

"We're done!" Mckinley announced, and they quickly fought their way into the courtyard to rejoin the team.

"Well done, you two," Ryuka said congratulated them, and nodded at Ghost.

"Five-Three, we're heading to the exfil point now!" Ghost exclaimed while shooting the big soldier that barred their exit as they ran, dodging bullets as they made towards the nearest clearing.

The pilot of the helicopter quickly responded, and they were ready to board the moment it reached the exfil point. "Hurry, this place is getting hot!" the pilot warned, and they all clambered to get in. The doors of the helicopter were quickly closed by Rocket and Ryuka, both of whom were almost shot had the helicopter not taken off in time.

"That went well," Whitaker sighed, wiping off the sweat on his forehead before he found himself being glared at by Ghost, Rocket and Ryuka. Mckinley immediately knew that there was going to be trouble for Whitaker, and she was lucky that she was not part of it at all.


End file.
